


Traitors and Outcasts

by moomkin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Plotfic, Torture, not a thranto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 31,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moomkin/pseuds/moomkin
Summary: Hera Syndulla gets the idea that perhaps Grand Admiral Thrawn could be persuaded to join the Rebellion, but kidnapping his aide probably wasn't the best way to get his attention.





	1. Chapter 1

Hera had it. She tightened her fingers around her family's kalikori, the cold wood warming to her touch, coming alive and with it bringing memories of home. A home that had never been perfect, never been truly safe – always dampered with the threat of war. But somehow, that promise of home held along with it a promise for peace. For freedom.

Ezra stood behind her, the two of them hidden by the screens lining the hallway to the lift, watching the doors. There was the faintest hum coming from it, growing louder.

Ezra pushed her ever so slightly. Time to go.

She darted out from behind their screen, when Ezra grabbed her arm, yanking her back.

"Ezra," Hera whispered her warning, but then the lift doors opened.

Good save, Hera thought. Ezra must have sensed the lift was occupied and stopped them from running ahead.

But who stepped out of the elevator - Hera straightened up, blinking, trying to hold in the shock.

First, he was not human. That wasn't really an issue – she herself was not human. But he was an alien species she had never seen before. Blue skin, not entirely uncommon. What tripped her up were the eyes. They weren't just red. They were glowing.

But what was an alien doing in Imperial uniform? Anyone with even a passing familiarity with the Galactic Empire knew aliens were not welcomed in the military. And yet this one was an officer? And what kind of rank wore a white uniform? Her eyes darted to the man's chest, but the rank plaque was something she hadn't seen before either. Someone high up the chain of command, most likely.

But… an alien? What human in the Imperial Navy would follow the orders of an alien?

He was so out of place that Hera nearly missed the other two officers. The one standing to the alien's left was typical Imperial officer – an ugly, smug expression, obnoxiously neat black hair. The other one, young, handsome in a rugged way, but somehow awkwardly out of place, not the typical Imperial gusto. His manner was more subdued, content with his position. As if taking this assignment in stride.

"Stand guard, no one in or out," the Imperial officer standing to the alien's left said to an accompanying storm trooper. He had that grating Coruscanti accent Hera had come to identify with the Core Worlds. With the Empire.

One thing was for sure – she and Ezra were going to have to find another way out. Hoping the Imperials would be distracted, Hera pushed Ezra back, back the way they'd come.

"Well, I've increased security, as per your orders, Grand Admiral," the officer continued. Hera smiled to herself – now they had a rank. "But I don't understand why, the rebel activity is far from here."

They were trapped behind one of the screens. The third officer, the other human one – either because he was bored of the conversation, or else actually keeping an eye on things – was looking in their direction. Hera and Ezra leaned against the screen closest to the lift. Watching that third officer, waiting for him to turn around.

How no one had noticed them at all was something Hera was thankful for.

"Commander Vanto," the blue-skinned Imperial said, his voice sounding almost bored, as if explaining his decisions was something he was long accustomed to.

"There was suspicious activity at entry point 4 just thirty minutes ago," Commander Vanto said, in an accent that screamed Wild Space yokel. Hera was shocked again. An alien and now this? Who were these two?

"Suspicious?" the first one said, confused. "But-"

"A scout supposedly returned from a patrol with a Twi'lek rebel," Commander Vanto continued. "However, Grand Admiral Thrawn and I have been tracking scout patrols since we've arrived and they were all accounted for at the time of the security breach. We believe rebels have infiltrated this base, perhaps with intentions for sabotage."

The first officer looked between the Grand Admiral and the Commander, bewildered. "But… how could you possibly-?"

Hera noticed Thrawn's eyes narrow. The officer's tone screamed of his internal contempt of the nonhuman who obviously had rank over him, how obviously had done a better job at noticing something suspicious before his own troops could.

"Captain Slavin," Thrawn said, his voice not betraying his reaction. "Could you tell me where would a prisoner normally be taken?"

"We have a restricted detention area, in building 16," Slavin said.

"Yet I understand you have Twi'leks working outside of that restricted area, don't you?"

"Yes… but just females, in the kitchen," the captain answered, uncertain where this was going.

"If your storm troopers found one of these workers outside of the kitchen, would that be cause for them to raise the alarm?" Thrawn asked.

"Yes, of course!" Slavin said, irritated.

"And yet there is Twi'lek female running lose in this building," Thrawn said.

Captain Slavin paled a little.

"Have your troopers confirm a head count for all their workers," Thrawn said. "This infiltration may very well be localized to an area where the presence of a Twi'lek female would not raise concern, specifically the kitchens. Which brings us to another point. Commander Vanto."

A smirk spread on Vanto's lips, as he dropped his eyes to his datapad.

"Yeah, I was going over your supply lists on our way over here and there's a discrepancy I'd like to discuss with you, Captain Slavin. It seems as though the Senate has ruled that the famine currently underway on Ryloth has been exasperated by the Imperial presence. The Empire has been delivering a certain amount of aid here, to this base, aid that isn't entirely accounted for from the numbers I've seen in your distribution files. Seems like someone with a position of authority has been skimming something from the top, most likely keeping or selling it for personal gain."

Captain Slavin's eyebrows shot up, looking between the two of them with more contempt than before.

"So you accuse me of-"

"We accuse you of nothing, Captain Slavin," Thrawn said, still in the same bored tone. "But as the commander of this operation, we trust you'll do everything you can to find out who would betray the attempts of the Emperor to restore peace here. I expect a report on the matter by the end of the day. Dismissed."

Captain Slavin's face went from barely hidden rage, to surprise, to fear. Hera had to try not to laugh – the man did almost nothing to hide his guilt. But the captain turned and left, without stammering an excuse.

Well, that narrowed it down to two.

When the lift door closed, and Captain Slavin was gone, Thrawn sighed.

"Commander Vanto, please explain to me how humans expect there to be peace on a world when they force innocent bystanders to starve," he said. Hera felt a slight pull in her chest. This Imperial… sounded almost sympathetic. Almost… like a rebel.

"I've tried to tell you, over and over and over, sir," Commander Vanto said, crossing his arms across his chest, his manner becoming a lot more relaxed now that they were alone. "There's corruption everywhere in the Empire."

Hera was definitely listening to these two now.

"But acting in this manner defies the will of the Emperor," Thrawn said, as if he was truly attempting to understand the logic behind the captain's greed. "Why does Captain Slavin not see this?"

"I can bring Slavin back and we can call him a traitor to his face," Vanto suggested.

"That will be unnecessary," Thrawn said. Vanto smirked. "Now our attention must be focused on this rebel infiltration."

"Any ideas what they are up to?" Vanto asked.

"The move is bold," Thrawn said. He was thoughtful for a moment, and then asked. "We must anticipate their intentions. Where are the rebels currently engaging our troops?"  
"About six miles from here," Vanto said after checking his datapad quickly. "A diversion?"

"More than likely," Thrawn said, and was silent again, thinking. "A Twi'lek female and most likely a human, in Imperial scout uniform... Assuming that the intelligence we received on the presence of the rebel ship, Ghost, on this planet, I think it's safe to say our Twi'lek female is none other than Hera Syndulla."

"Captain Slavin did say he'd made Cham Syndulla's office his own," Vanto pointed out. "And that's in this building. The same one it was reported the two rebels snuck into."  
"If you were to infiltrate an enemy base, who would you bring with you?" Thrawn asked.

"My money's on the Jedi, sir," Vanto said. "Specifically the padawan, Ezra Bridger. If reports about Kanan Jarrus having had some kind of traumatic facial injury are to be believed-"

"Distribute holos on Bridger and Captain Syndulla to all storm trooper patrols," Thrawn said. "And publish a new standing order – all troopers must remove their helmets when indoors."

Vanto pressed a few buttons on his datapad.

"That doesn't answer what they're doing here," he pointed out. "You really think they're trying to steal food?"

"Our scans don't show any unidentified ships close to this base," Thrawn said. "Making it unlikely that they are here to move supplies. No, they're risking far more for something far more personal."

"This is the Syndulla home," Vanto said. "Perhaps revenge?"

"Perhaps," Thrawn said. "But the next move is theirs. Let's see how they react once they discover they've been trapped."

And the two continued down the hall. Another moment later, they were in the lift. Gone.

"Whoa, okay," Ezra said, hitting the release on the side of his helmet, exposing his face. "That was creepy. They figured out who we are, already. Who were those two?"

"I don't know," Hera said, her mind racing. "But they didn't sound very happy with the Empire."

"No… you're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?" Ezra asked.

Hera clutched her kalikori tighter, giving Ezra a little smirk.

"What?" she asked. "It's not like there's never been an Imperial defector before. Come on, there's a secret exit on the lower level. First we got to get out of here."


	2. Chapter 2

Trying to escape ended up being more difficult than Hera could have possibly imagined. Her secret exit? Not so secret anymore. And everywhere her and Ezra snuck to, there seemed to be another mass of storm troopers on patrol.

That Grand Admiral hadn't been kidding when he said to double patrols.

Of course, the idea was crazy. If there was anyone less likely to defect from the Empire, it was the person at the very top. Hera couldn't quite shake the feeling – a nonhuman Imperial officer… he had to be really good to have gotten to that position.

Someone truly dissatisfied with the Empire wouldn't have put so much work into capturing the two infiltrators. Still, it was just as hard for Hera to ignore his complaints. Or the surprisingly way the superior bounced ideas off of his subordinate.

Granted, if they didn't get out of her Imperial-occupied house, there would be little to make of it.

A few mumbled beeps, and Hera's heart soared.

"Chopper!" she whispered, kneeling down to give the little droid a welcomed pat. After leaving him to stare at the wreckage of his old Y-wing, Hera was worried he might have gotten too depressed to be of much help. "Am I glad to see you. We could use some help getting out of here."

Another string of beeps. Not a problem.

\- SWR –

"Chop was right, there are less guards here."

"Well, I guess they're not expecting prisoners to just walk out the front door," Ezra said. "We just need a diversion," he added, shooting a glance at Chopper.

With a wave, Chopper rolled up to the storm troopers, beeping loudly, calling for help. Hera and Ezra snuck behind the screens which lined the halls, Hera subtly thankful that they had them.

Hera stopped at the one closest to the door, watching the storm troopers… thank goodness for gullible troopers.

"You go," Ezra was stacked behind her. "I'll cover you."

He took a step to the side, his firearm on stun, pointing it at the two storm troopers. Hera steadied herself, and ran, trying to balance speed with silence. Luck was on her side – she got to the door. She watched the storm troopers for a moment, making sure they really hadn't noticed, when she heard the door open behind her.

Hera wheeled around, knowing that no matter who was in the doorway, it wasn't going to be a friendly face.

It was Commander Vanto. Alone.

He had been looking down at his datapad, but when he noticed out of his peripheral vision that someone was standing in front of him, he glanced up. His eyes widened slightly in recognition.

"Well, that didn't take long," he said.

Ezra struck. With two shots in quick succession, the two storm troopers fell over, stunned. In the next moment, he was at Hera's side, his hand held out before him, eyes blazing in concentration.

"You are going to help us escape," Ezra said.

Vanto winced a little, turning his head, fighting the implantation of the idea.

"You are going to help us escape," Ezra tried again, stressing each word.

"I am going to help you escape," Vanto said, his voice becoming murky, as most people's did when they were under the influence of the Jedi mind trick.

"Ezra, what are you doing?" Hera whispered angrily.

"You just captured the two rebels," Ezra went on. "You will escort us out of this building and into a ship."

"Ezra…." Hera said warningly. This was a daring move. Were they really that desperate? And where were the other officers? Ezra was most likely not going to be able to keep this up if they ran into them.

"I just captured the two rebels," Vanto parroted. "I will escort you out of this building and into a ship."

Ezra turned around, putting his hands behind his head, nudging Hera to do the same. Hera sighed, and mimicked the Jedi padawan.

"Move," Ezra said.

"Move," Vanto repeated, and Hera and Ezra walked in front of him, Chopper following behind. Hera's heart was racing, but they'd made crazier escapes before, right?

Oddly, it seemed like it was working. Storm troopers saw them and merely got out of their way. They made it outside, and even then no one seemed to pay them too much attention. Until…

One of the storm troopers – he had to have been a sergeant or something, he had one of those shoulder pads – jogged up to the group.

"Commander?" the storm trooper asked. "Where are you taking these rebels?"

Hera shot an angry glance at Ezra.

"He's taking the prisoners to the cruiser," Ezra said, after a quick glance into the sky confirmed there was indeed an Imperial cruiser hovering over the planet.

"You're taking the prisoners to the cruiser," the storm trooper said, coming to a stop.

But dropping the mind manipulation on Vanto to manipulate the storm trooper was risky. Hera glanced over her shoulder, wondering what it would look like – if there was anything to see – when someone came out from under the spell.

"We need to hurry," Hera whispered urgently to Ezra, trying her best not to let her aggravation show.

"Find a ship you can fly," Ezra said, looking over his shoulder at Vanto. The man blinked a few times, as if he'd been waking up and was back under his control. He turned his head sharply, his eyes trained on a ship, but he didn't move.

Ezra sighed annoyedly. "Take us to the ship." Under his breath, he grumbled, "You Imperial idiot."

"I will take you to the ship," Vanto said, and they were off once again.

Thankfully they didn't run into any more trouble, and even better? The ship itself was empty. Ezra nearly shoved Vanto into the pilot's chair.

"Alright, fly us out of here," Ezra said. "We're going to heading 4.5, about ten miles from here."

"I will fly us out of here," Vanto started, but Ezra cut him off.

"Don't repeat everything I say!" he snapped.

"I will stop repeating everything you say," Vanto said, grabbing the stick and pulling the ship off the ground.

"I gotta hand it to you, Ezra," Hera said, as they cleared the base without incident. "That was a good plan."

Of course the moment she said that, a voice cut through on the ship's communications.

"Shuttle, who gave you authority to leave?" the voice barked into the intercom.

"The rebel prisoners who are commandeering this shuttle," Vanto answered back in a blank voice.

"Come on!" Ezra growled, as the ship was rocked by a sudden, violent blast. "And now they're going to shoot us out of the sky."

"Not if I can help it," Hera said, grabbing Vanto by the collar of his uniform and practically dragged him out of the seat. Once in control of the ship, she felt better. She couldn't blame the kid for making a crazy plan – much of the Rebellion itself was one crazy plan after another.

But she wasn't about to get shot down, either.

She banked the ship one way and then the other – zig zags were the only way to escape – as she pulled on the stick, forcing the shuttle to climb. Within seconds they were beyond the range of the base weapons, but something told her it would only be a matter of time before TIEs were sent after them. The shuttle they were in didn't have any weapons of its own.

When she and Ezra had gone on this mission, they'd left everything behind – weapons, comlinks – anything that might have tipped off an unusually observant storm trooper of their true purpose. Now, without comlinks, how was Hera going to warn the crew of the Ghost that they were in trouble? They couldn't just fly straight to their own base… and lead the Empire straight to where her father was staging his resistance.

A groan from their Imperial passenger interrupted her thoughts.

"Ezra, grab his blaster," she said. "Maybe he can get these TIEs off our backs."

Because sure enough, the sensors were showing that they were being pursued.


	3. Chapter 3

Eli Vanto came out from under the influence of the Jedi mind trick confused – understandably. One minute he was staring at the Twi'lek rebel captain he was trying to capture, the next he was sitting on the ground in the cabin of a shuttle, with a blaster pointed at him. He could remember doing things, but the memories were hazy, as if what he'd done hadn't been real.

"That didn't go well," he muttered to himself. "Now what?" he asked, looking up at his captors.

The Jedi padawan looked angry enough, his words biting, "If you don't want to die, you'll order those TIEs to stop firing on us."

Eli didn't need to be told twice – the shuttle was just then rocked by a violent hit. He scrambled up to the controls, hitting a button for the comm.

"This is Commander Eli Vanto, ordering you to stop firing on us," he said, peering out the window, but of course there was nothing in front of them except the empty Ryloth landscape.

The answer was a long time coming. "We need your verification number, sir."

Eli mumbled his annoyance, "Are you kidding?! Who else has an accent like this?" but of course that was just his frustrations boiling over. He quickly rattled off a series of numbers.  
The Twi'lek pilot looked down at the radar, Eli did the same – the blips representing the two chasing TIE fighters were still following them, but they had stopped firing.

There was beep at his hip, Eli grabbed his commlink.

"Hey, sir, um-"

But Thrawn cut him off, "I just got a report saying you were leaving the base on a shuttle."

"Well, I think I'm being kidnapped," Eli answered.

"Cut that out," Ezra said, springing forward to snatch the commlink from Eli. But Eli did his best to keep it out of the Jedi's reach – switching it from one hand to the other, trying to push Ezra away, holding it as far away from himself as he could. Hera was busy at the controls.

"And now they're trying to take my commlink, sir," Eli said to Thrawn, but of course his ineptitude with combat training showed. Ezra swiped it from his hands, and in the next moment, snapped it in half.

"Wonderful," Eli mumbled.

"Tell those TIEs to stop following us," Hera ordered.

"Or what?" Eli said, sitting down in one of the passenger seats. "You make the kid do his Jedi mind trick on me. The horror. I'm sure I'll survive."

Hera scowled, calling back to Ezra. "Go on."

The next minute, Eli was blankly requesting the TIEs stop following them. The radar confirmed that the TIEs were not listening.

Eli came back to reality, blinking furiously.

"See, what'd I tell you?"

"We've got a new ship on the radar," Hera announced, most likely to Ezra because Eli was pretty sure she didn't care what he knew about their situation.

But the news cheered him up significantly. Thrawn. There was no doubt in his mind. He was coming after him. And sure enough, the communications computer let out a beep.

"We're being hailed," Hera said, a grimace of reluctance crossing her face before she reached over and hit the button to accept.

"This is Grand Admiral Thrawn," his voice forceful, authoritative. "Land your ship immediately and release Commander Vanto."

"Not a chance, Admiral," Hera shot back. "Break off your pursuit or-"

"Let me speak with Commander Vanto," Thrawn ordered.

"Yeah, not happening," Hera answered back.

"You will let me speak to Commander Vanto or I'll assume he is dead and I will order these TIEs to shoot you down," Thrawn said.

Hera sighed, looked over her shoulder at her Imperial prisoner, and gestured to the comm. Eli dashed up to the consule once again, hitting the button to communicate.

"Sir, I'm here," Eli answered.

"Have they hurt you?" Thrawn asked, using a much different tone than the one he used with the rebels.

"Not really," Eli said and then sighed loudly. "Well, now one of them is pointing my blaster at me."

Ezra growled, "Don't think I won't use it, Imperial scum."

"And he's threatening to shoot me," Eli said, sounding almost bored with the idea. Despite trying to sound tough, Eli could detect a certain air of unnaturalness in Ezra's words. He was just trying to scare him, he was sure of it.

"Don't worry," Thrawn answered. "Work through the logic."

Eli took a moment to think, "They're not going to shoot me because if they do, you'll just shoot them down."

"Excellent," Thrawn said. "Tell me, how much fuel do they have?"

Eli looked down at the control panel, but Hera was faster.

"Yeah, we're not having any of that," Hera said, closing out the comm. Eli scowled and sat back down. He shot another glance at Ezra, who was still pointing his blaster at him.

"Why are you still doing that?" Eli asked.

"So you don't try to take control of the ship, genius," Ezra answered.

"Your opinion of my capabilities is really off," Eli mumbled. "What was your plan anyways? What did you possibly hope to achieve by kidnapping me?"

"We weren't trying to kidnap you," Ezra said. "We were trying to escape."

"Enough chatter, Ezra," Hera snapped.

"Well, now you've got Grand Admiral Thrawn angry," Eli said, feeling a lot more comfortable at the thought. "You won't be getting away."


	4. chapter 4

Eli couldn't believe it. He figured his kidnappers would either realize the futility of escape and land, forfeit, give up quietly. Or either just keep going until they ran out of fuel and were then forced to land.

He quickly realized why this particular rebel cell were evading all efforts to capture or destroy them.

"You can't be serious," Eli stammered, knowing full well that they were quite serious.

Hera put the ship into autopilot, and got out of her seat.

"We're always serious," she said. "Come on, Commander."

Her words were stern, but not as biting as before. Maybe seeing the hope of escape had altered her mood. After all, it wasn't every day that two rebels went from certain defeat to escape so quickly.

The Ghost had shown up.

Eli had assumed it would engage the Imperials – and that's sort of what they were doing. The rear gun of the rebel ship was shooting back at the perusing TIEs, but just enough that they kept their distance. The front ramp of the shuttle had dropped, and – Eli felt his stomach drop – the front ramp of the Ghost had opened as well.

The gap wasn't really that far – but of course when two ships were flying side by side at a high rate of speed barely skimming the surface of a planet – any distance seemed much farther than it really was.

There was the Lasat waiting to offer a hand – Eli had to dig through his memory to remember his name – Garazeb Orrelios… When he saw Eli's Imperial uniform, he said something – impossible to tell what, with the wind and the engines roaring, but clearly not approving.

Apparently, Garazeb didn't have much of a say in what the other two decided, maybe he didn't have the same status or rank as the Jedi or the Twi'lek, because Eli suddenly felt a shove… well, it wasn't exactly a shove. It was hard to explain – it was like gravity had suddenly ceased to exist, and then a separate force had moved him from where he'd been standing on the shuttle platform over the gap, towards the Lasat.

Garazeb grabbed his arm, and flung him into the cargo bay, probably with a lot more force than needed to be. Eli rolled over once before coming to a halt – and tried to scramble to his feet in time to make one last effort to escape maybe. By the time he found his footing, Hera and Ezra were already on board, the door shutting.

"So if you weren't kidnapping me, you're doing a really awful job at it," Eli said.

"Yeah, well, we don't want to get shot down," Ezra said with a cocky grin. The kid certainly had a change of heart once they were safely aboard the Ghost.

Eli frowned, realizing that Thrawn's threat had worked in one situation, but now had him in a corner.

"Hera, are you mad!?" the Lasat roared. "What are you doing bringing an Imperial on board?"

"Like Ezra said," Hera explained. "He's our assurance that we won't get shot down."

"So instead you'll just run across the galaxy until you lose fuel," Eli said, feeling horribly awkward and out of place. He didn't know where to stand, or how to stand, or what to do really. He'd had many instances where he'd been a fish out of water – actually, that summed up the majority of his time in the Imperial Navy – but it was hard to compare with suddenly finding himself a prisoner onboard a rebel craft.

Hera began climbing a ladder – to the cockpit, Eli guessed, and just smirked, "Haven't been caught yet."

"You've never been chased by Thrawn before," Eli said. "He's not going to stop-"

But she was gone without another word. Which left Eli trailing off and feeling awkward again. Thankfully he wasn't the center of attention anymore. The Lasat went to smack Ezra upside the head, but Eli guessed with his Jedi powers, he saw the attack coming and dodged it.

"What. Were. You. Thinking!?" Garazeb roared.

"With the exception of some extra baggage, the mission was a success," Ezra answered.

Eli felt his heart lurch. They had a mission? And it had been successful!? What had they done? Planted bombs? Stole data? He didn't think they'd been at the base long enough to actually pull anything off-

"The kalikori? Hera got it?" Garazeb asked.

Before Ezra could confirm, Eli burst out laughing. The two turned to look at him, having forgotten he was there.

Eli couldn't help it. On their way to Ryloth, Thrawn had been pouring over Twi'lek art and culture. He was particularly fascinated with the way that the Twi'lek culture used art to pass on a family legacy. Of course, he would… and thankfully Thrawn had shared a bit of that knowledge with Eli.

"Just wait, you two infiltrated an Imperial base… to steal art?" Eli asked with a laugh of disbelief. "Oh, Thrawn's going to love that-"

"We've got to do something about this," Garazeb said, pointing a thumb at Eli. "Can't just have him wandering around."

"You could always let me go-" Eli tried.

A minute later, and he was locked in one of the cabins. Eli didn't even resist much. The room he found himself in was bare, with nothing he could use to surprise or attack his captors. Not like he planned to resist.

As far as he could tell, these rebels had no idea what they were going to do with him. Strange that Thrawn could have predicted them acting in a way that they themselves hadn't considered.

Eli put his ear to the door for a moment, making sure he wouldn't be heard, before retreating to the bunk and sitting down.

With a sigh, he pressed a tile on his rank plaque.

"I'm here, sir," he said into the commlink that Thrawn had cleverly installed into his plaque.


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you hurt?"

Eli grinned, feeling his cheeks warm at the thought. Even with so much at stake, that was Thrawn's first concern.

"I'm okay," Eli insisted.

"You're alone?"

"Yeah, they've got me locked up in a cabin," Eli said. "Can't figure a way to get out. How'd you know they were going to try and kidnap me?"

"If I thought they were going to abduct you, I wouldn't have sent you to go look for them alone," Thrawn explained. "I merely hoped they would be less threatened by you and try to talk."

"No such luck," Eli said. "Not yet anyways."

"Did you discover what they were infiltrating the base for?" Thrawn asked.

Eli managed to laugh, "You wouldn't believe it. They came for the kalikori."

When Thrawn spoke next, Eli could hear the smile on his voice. "How… interesting."

"Yeah, interesting," Eli said. "So, what's your next move?"

"I'd still like to have an open dialogue with this rebel cell," Thrawn said. "Perhaps we may find that our motivations are similar to theirs. For now, I will forfeit the chase and allow them the chance to flee. See if you can determine what their end game is."

"Got it," Eli said.

"And Eli…" Thrawn said. Eli was caught off guard – it was very seldom that Thrawn ever addressed him by his given name. "If they threaten to hurt you, in any way-"

"Yeah, I know," Eli said. "I'll call back. Not sure how you're going to find me-"

"There's a locator in your tile," Thrawn cut him off. "You don't think I would send you away without any way of finding you again?"

Eli smiled. "Suppose not."

"Good luck."

The commlink gave a snap of static, and Eli knew the connection was cut. He sighed, leaning back on the bed, waiting until someone came to get him.

\- SWR-

"That's… different," Hera said, looking down at her computers.

"Different good? Different bad?" Kanan asked from the seat next to her. "You have to give me something."

"Looks like the Imperials gave up," she answered.

They'd just completed their first jump. Hera had been adjusting their course, looking for a new hyperspace lane, waiting to see if a star destroyer would catch up to them. The entire crew was in the cockpit, wondering if they were going to have to fight their way across the galaxy. But a few minutes dragged on, and… nothing.

"Explain how this is a bad sign?" Ezra asked.

"Of course it's a bad sign!" Sabine argued. "If you were saying that the guy we've got on board was working with a Grand Admiral? He has access to all kinds of sensitive information. No way the Empire would let him go so easily."

"Sabine's right," Kanan said. "This feels like a trap."

"So. We jettison our extra cargo here," Zeb said with a shrug.

Hera didn't respond, her mind racing. She wanted to believe that the officer they had unintentionally kidnapped was a potential ally. Or was it only wishful thinking? Was she just thinking this way because of how they had talked about her people? Was she merely being misled? Had Thrawn and Vanto merely said a few thing negative things about the Empire just to get a foot in the door? And why? For what purpose?

No matter how she tried to reason it, there seemed to be no other conclusion to reach – Hera was pretty confident there were no bad intentions.

It was only after the moment dragged on too long that Hera realized the rest of the crew was waiting for a response from her.

"Chopper," she said. "Go ahead and get us on another jump."

"You're going to talk to him, aren't you?" Zeb said, with a bit of sadness in his voice.

"We can dump him on a random planet with a beacon if it comes down to it," Hera said. "But if this is a trap, I want to know why he wanted to get captured."

\- SWR -

Eli stood up when the door opened. Not ready to fight, or to flee, but merely to be an equal. He might have been taken captive but he was still an officer in the Imperial Navy. Hera misread his actions, though, and leaned against the door frame.

"Calm down, we just want to talk," she said, her voice gentle.

"Yeah?" Eli asked. He debated whether or not to say that he did, too, and then decided against it. It would be interesting to see where this would go.

"Come on," Hera said, stepping to the side of the door, allowing him to leave. "Might as well meet the crew."

Eli was surprised. She was serious. Before he knew it, he was sitting in the longue, feeling horribly uncomfortable as the center of attention while being surrounded by the rebel crew. They all had expressions of distrust on their faces, well, all of them except Hera. He decided to look at her.

"I'm guessing introductions are going to be redundant, Commander Vanto?" Hera asked. Eli figured she had overheard him and Thrawn talking about who they suspected had infiltrated the base.

"Hera Syndulla, pilot, been fighting wars all your life," Eli said abruptly, and then started going around the table. "Garazeb Orrelios, Empire wiped out your people, no questions why you're a rebel. Sabine Wren, ex-Imperial, surprised you're still into explo-"

Sabine gave him such a glare that Eli trailed off, turning to the next person. "Ezra Bridger, your parents got arrested and executed, I guess I'd have it in for the Empire, too and… Kanan Jarrus-"

"So you've done your research," Garazeb growled. "Doesn't mean you know us."

"But… you want to know who I am," Eli said. "Look, I've been captured before. Usually… this," he made a back-and-forth gesture with his hands, "This doesn't normally happen."  
"Can't help it that you and your Admiral friend didn't sound very pleased with the Empire," Hera said.

Eli frowned. "You don't know us," he mumbled. He really wished Thrawn were here. He was so much better at this kind of stuff. But Thrawn had his reasons. Eli had learned a long time ago to trust him when he made plans – no matter how crazy they seemed, they always seemed to work out. He just had to trust him.

"Couldn't have been easy for an alien to become a Grand Admiral in the Imperial Navy," Hera went on. "And you're… not a typical officer either."

"It's the accent, isn't it?" Eli said, glumly.

"I was going for the way you two talked together," Hera said. "Like equals."

Eli shrugged, "We've been together our entire careers."

"Really?" Hera said, not believing it. "You're too young to have been in the Navy for long. No way someone goes from lieutenant to grand admiral in anything less than thirty years."  
That made Eli chuckle, "Well, it's like I said. You don't know us. And you don't know Thrawn. We've been in the Navy for fifteen years, and he's done just what you said."

"There's no way," Sabine interjected. "The Empire had protocols, there is no way anyone could climb the ranks that high that fast, let alone an alien."

"Again. You don't know us."

"So if this Grand Admiral is so great, why'd he give up chasing us?" Ezra asked. "You kept saying how much trouble we were going to be in with him if we didn't let you go."  
Eli sighed. He really had wished Thrawn had come up with another plan. Any other plan, really, as long as it involved him not getting kidnapped by rebels. But he figured if he was sent to talk, might as well talk. Say what they wanted to hear, and hope to get the information Thrawn was after.

"Because," Eli said, wincing a little, feeling stupid now that he was about to say it. "We might be interested in defecting."


	6. chapter 6

The silence probably only last a second, but it felt like an eternity. Sabine was the first to react - with a sarcastic, choking laugh.

"That was the worst lie I've ever heard," she elaborated.

"You know, Jedi can tell if you're lying," Ezra added with a mischievous grin.

Eli kept his eyes on his feet, feeling his face warm with shame. He knew that hadn't come out the way he'd meant it to.

"It's not a lie," Eli said, deliberately. "It's complicated."

"What's complicated? Either you want to defect or you don't," Ezra said, the grin widening on his face, which Eli found discomforting. It was like Ezra was happy to have found something to trip him up by.

"I've heard enough," Zeb said.

"If this was a trap, why did Thrawn let you go?" Eli asked. At least he felt like he finally got the upper hand again – there was no answer. He debated whether or not to add that Thrawn could find their ship whenever he wanted to, but immediately decided against it – what if they discovered his hidden commlink and destroyed it?

"I say we throw him out the airlock," Zeb reaffirmed, crossing his monstrous arms over his chest. Resigned – not accepting further discussion.

Eli felt his heart rate kick up in a sudden, painful spike. He looked up, glancing around the table, but then (he mentally kicked himself) he probably looked even more guilty.  
"Hold up," Hera said. "You said it's complicated. How so?"

Eli fidgeted again, wondering if it was too late to call up Thrawn and demand that he get rescued. No, that was stupid… there was no other way out of it. Even if the reports on this particular rebel cell showed that they were generally non-violent, it didn't mean they wouldn't kill him if they thought they were trapped. Eli was going to have to reveal a lot, perhaps a lot more than Thrawn had wanted.

Eli started. "You already overheard us talking-"

"Which doesn't mean much," Ezra cut him off. "Maybe you saw me and Hera sneaking around and were saying what you thought we wanted to hear."

Eli scowled, trying to ignore the interruption. "Look, the Empire isn't all we thought it was going to be." Eli stopped for a moment, realizing that he was using a "we" when talking about Thrawn, somehow instinctively lumping the two of them together as one entity. "Thrawn didn't choose to join the Empire. Not really anyways. He was brought to Coruscant. As a gift, for the Emperor. You know – look, here's an alien species no one's ever seen before. Pretty much the only way out of being locked up like some kind of animal was to donate his services to the navy."

"So he resents that?" Hera asked. Eli's heart lifted at the tone of her voice – definitely some compassion there. He guessed he'd scored a point for Thrawn by playing up the Empire's xenophobia.

"Wouldn't anyone?" Eli said. "Especially with the way everyone treats us… The alien and the back world yokel… we're a joke."

"Except Thrawn's a Grand Admiral," Hera pointed out.

"He's good at what he does," Eli said.

"Which is hunting down rebels," Hera said, a sterner tone on her voice. "Like us. Which you say he's wanting to defect to."

Eli grimaced. He'd walked into that one.

"Well, this is our first assignment with any rebellion," Eli said. "Mostly we've been tasked to stop slavers and the like."

"Elaborate on 'the like,'" Kanan said.

"Pirates, smugglers," Eli said.

"We could be considered smugglers," Kanan pointed out.

"Yeah, we read up on you," Eli said. "Stealing weapons from the Empire to trade for food which you gave to the starving locals on Lothal. Not really the same thing as pirates making a profit off of intimidating powerless folk."

Kanan's mouth made a grimace… and Eli wished he knew what that was for. Was he surprised Eli knew about their past? Or was he uncomfortable about having been wrong in assuming Thrawn and Eli were the same as other Imperials?

Eli figured he was on a good track and kept going. "Thrawn's concerned about how the Empire is operating… not much difference between a band of pirates squeezing the innocent to get what they want and a big military doing the same thing. When we were tasked to hunt y'all down, we read up on you… seemed like you were doing what the Empire should have been doing."

"Doesn't excuse the fact that you couldn't have been ignorant on all of what the Empire's done," Zeb cut in suddenly. "The worlds they cleansed."

Eli sighed. "Thrawn is an alien… for some reason we were never assigned to go cleanse worlds of other aliens."

"But you stayed in the Empire," Kanan said.

"Yeah, well, surprisingly it's kind of difficult to leave," Eli said. "And Thrawn was still hoping-"

He cut himself off, but Hera picked up on it.

"That?"

"That the Empire might be able to help him. Thrawn says there's an evil out in the Unknown Regions," Eli said. "He tried to fight it, but he was too… well, he made the first move against it and the leaders on his world didn't like that. So they exiled him. And he was hoping the Empire would be a power he could use to bring back to his home world, to fight the evil."

"He was trying to… manipulate the Empire?" Sabine said, with another choking laugh. She seemed to find most of this hard to believe.

"He already does a good job at it," Eli said, realizing no one get the inside joke about how often Thrawn had to pull strings to keep the two of them together. "But the corruption in the Empire isn't going away. In some ways, it's getting worse. And it's not something either of us can change. At least not internally."

"But you make it sound like he wants to take over the Rebellion, to use it for his own ends," Kanan pointed out.

Eli shrugged again. "You can't fight evil elsewhere if where you are is in shambles. And he's been waiting fifteen years so far. If the galaxy can be made stable, and strong, I'd say it'd be a win-win. Thrawn can help you build a better galaxy, and in turn, you can help him fight the evil."

"Where do you fall in all of this?" Hera asked. "All you've done so far is talk about Thrawn. What about you?"

"Me?" Eli asked. His own part to play in all of this seemed incredibly insignificant. At least when compared to fighting evil. "When the Empire first found Thrawn, …" was that the best place to start? Too late now. "The people on my world had myths about the Chiss. I knew a bit about them, and we could speak the same language. So I was assigned to be his translator… and … well, I've been working as his aide ever since."

"That still doesn't explain why you want to leave the Empire," Hera said.

Eli fidgeted again, hoping what he was going to say wouldn't sound as pathetic as it did in his head. "He's… not just my superior… he's… my only friend. Wherever he goes, I'll go."  
And yeah, the silence that followed was just as pathetic as he'd made himself sound.

But that was it. He'd laid out his pitch. Now to see what they'd do with it. And hope they wouldn't decide to throw him out of the airlock after all.

-SWR-

Thrawn was getting nervous.

Granted, maybe only a few hours had gone by since the last time he'd talked with Eli. Not nearly long enough to begin to worry. And he wouldn't put Eli's safety in jeopardy by trying to hail him again on their secret, hidden plaque-commlinks.

But how much longer could it possibly take for him to check in?

Maybe he couldn't get a chance to sneak away. Yes… that had to be it…

Thrawn sighed. Worry wasn't something he was used to. Yet being denied information was more terrible than he'd imagined. Especially when he'd sent Eli on a dangerous mission, alone. It wasn't like the past times he'd sent Eli to do something dangerous – they had still been together. This was different. Thrawn could feel the expanse of the space between them. The helplessness.

"Grand Admiral," a voice called from his official commlink.

With reluctance, he spoke into it. "Yes?"

"We're ready with details on a prisoner exchange," the voice said.

Thrawn growled. There was little he could do to thwart the efforts of the Empire to try and retrieve a kidnapped officer. But if the Empire succeeded in tracking down the Ghost before Eli had a chance to gain their trust, then this entire mission was ruined.

The other officers had definitely picked up on his nervousness – and thankfully attributed that to Thrawn not being able to stay calm knowing his aide was kidnapped. Their friendship was widely known, and at least to the other officers on board the Chimera, appreciated.

If he were to do anything to thwart the Empire's efforts to track down the Ghost and retrieve Commander Vanto, it would certainly be suspicious.

But a prisoner exchange… how was this going to affect his plans?

There was another beep at his hip, and with another reluctance, Thrawn spoke into it again.

"Yes?"

"Looks like an exchange won't be necessary," the voice said. "The Ghost is requesting to hand over Commander Vanto in exchange for their safety."

Thrawn smiled. No need to worry. Another plan going exactly as anticipated.

He turned off his official commlink and clicked on the tile on his own rank plaque, ready to congratulate Eli on a job well done. Considering Eli's tendency for lacking confidence, Thrawn knew Eli could use the praise. But what he heard on the other end...

Thrawn's brow furrowed, trying to read what it was... there were obvious sounds of... a struggle. And then a voice.

"Stop resisting, traitor. This'll go much easier."


	7. chapter 7

On the bright side, they didn't throw him out of the air lock.

Unfortunately, something unforeseen had happened before they had the chance to.

"They want to do _what_?" Hera called out, her voice picked up by the inner-ship's communications system and broadcasted to the little droid keeping watch in the cockpit.

Eli listened, a little unnerved. The news had certainly silenced the rest of the _Ghost_ crew. They'd come out of hyperspace only to find an Imperial cruiser waiting. And the moment they'd arrived, the _Ghost_ was being contacted – hand over the kidnapped officer, and their safety could be guaranteed.

Eli wasn't happy about it at all. How long had he been gone? Was it enough time for a general order to spread through the _entire Imperial navy_ to be on the lookout for the _Ghost_? In the records he and Thrawn had looked through, it seemed like the _Ghost_ was very good at living up to its name. It was hard to find, and harder to contain.

And now… seemingly at random, the Empire had the rebel ship right where they wanted them. _And they knew Eli was on board._

The whole thing was very suspicious. Worse, there was no way for Eli to bounce off his ideas with Thrawn without revealing to the crew that they hadn't been trusted in the first place.

"This whole thing is starting to sound like a setup," Zeb growled, glaring at Eli. Eli agreed, except it was clear from the way Zeb said his words that he assumed Eli was supposed to have lured the crew into a trap meant for their capture.

"Don't look at me," Eli defended himself. "The kid decided to kidnap me, remember?"

But still, Eli didn't feel good about this at all.  
A series of beeps filled the air. The rest of the crew apparently understood what their astromech droid was saying and didn't feel the need to translate for him. Understanding droids was never really high on Imperial training. Eli shot a glance at Hera. Trying to read her response.

"If all they want is this guy, then I say hand him over," Sabine said.

"I've said my piece," Eli chirped in quickly. Despite his misgivings about the situation, staying with a crew which could easily have him killed wasn't a better option. He'd certainly done what Thrawn had wanted. He'd delivered Thrawn's message. He'd been able to see the crew interact. He could tell Thrawn what to expect from them in the future. And he'd been able to figure out just how dedicated the rebellion was to their cause.

And if they were strong enough to risk deflective.

Granted, the crew had figured out fairly quickly that Thrawn's ultimate objective was to use whichever side ended up victorious for his own ends. But hopefully Eli had conveyed the idea that without Thrawn on their side, the rebellion was sure to fail anyways.

"Fine," Hera said. "Chopper, tell them we accept."

She glanced around the table, "The rest of you, battle stations. I'm not leaving anything to chance."

"What about you?" Kanan asked.

"I'm going to make sure this exchange goes the way it's supposed to," Hera said.

The next minute, the lounge was deserted, and Eli felt awkwardly uncomfortable again. Hera picked up on it immediately.

"You're not too sure about going back, are you?" she asked, gesturing for him to follow her to the airlock. She wasn't entirely correct, but it was a misassumption Eli could play.

"It's just… really convenient," Eli admitted. "Too convenient for how the Empire normally gets things done, in any case."

Hera smiled. "I'm assuming if you and Thrawn are tasked to chase us, then I don't have to ask if we'll run into each other again?"

"Just think about what I said," Eli reminded her.

"I have," Hera said.

Eli raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"I don't make choices about my crew without the consent of my crew," Hera said. "And the timing of this cut into our discussion time."

"Oh," Eli said, but mentally noted that Hera had pretty much confirmed that they were willing to give Thrawn a try. _Discussion?_ Eli could figure out that Hera was the matriarch of the crew – he was pretty sure if she said so, the rest would agree.

"I never did get your first name," Hera said.

Eli was thrown off guard a moment. "Eli," he answered.

"Good luck, Eli," Hera said, the _Ghost_ rocking a moment as it made contact with the cruiser.

Eli was actually fairly surprised. It went exactly as it was supposed to go. The airlock opened, and despite there being a handful of storm troopers and… a captain, they merely welcomed Eli on board. He passed between the two ships hesitantly, half-expecting the storm troopers to open fire.

_They didn't._

And that made Eli feel horribly uncomfortable.

When the door closed behind him, he half expected to hear some massive explosion as the _Ghost_ was blown away… and that didn't happen either.

"Welcome aboard, Commander Vanto," the captain said. "You appear relieved."

Eli narrowed his eyes, suddenly feeling much less relieved. It was the manner in which the captain said it. Not in a _you must be happy you were rescued_ way, but in a slippery tone, one that suggested the real meaning was _you must be happy the rebels weren't harmed._

The captain was watching his expression, and then nodded to the storm troopers whom Eli only just realized were surrounding him.

Too late-

The butt of a blaster slammed into Eli's lower back. The next moment, a storm trooper stomped on the back of Eli's leg, right below the knee. He let out of a little yelp of pain and was on the ground the next moment.

An armored knee drove into his chest, pinning him to the ground, forcing the air out of his lungs.

Eli's heart was racing as fast as his mind. _What the hell?_

"What's going on?" Eli gasped, trying his best to mask his fear with authority.

"You're being apprehended," the captain said, boredly. "For treason."

Eli's eyes widened, his heart rate climbing.

"Turn him over," the muffled voice of a storm trooper ordered the others.

Eli felt an armored hand grasp onto his wrist, forcibly moving his arm across his chest. He tried to resist, but only felt the storm trooper tightened his grip, pinching his skin between the protective plates on the trooper's armor.

Another storm trooper grabbed his hand, pulling his arm further across his chest, a pang of realization hitting Eli as his shoulder came up off the ground. They were turning him over. If they managed to get him on his stomach, hands behind his back… he'd never be able to reach Thrawn and warn him.

Eli kicked out, wildly missing the storm troopers. One merely threw himself down on Eli's legs, pinning them to the ground. Eli tried bucking his hips, wrestling his arm free – nothing worked. The storm troopers were more powerful than he was.

But at least his flailing distracted them. He reached up and clicked on the secret tile in his rank plaque, hoping desperately Thrawn wouldn't say anything.

"Stop resisting, _traitor_ ," a storm trooper growled. "This'll go much easier."

"I'm not a traitor!" Eli shouted back.

With another yank, Eli was pulled onto his stomach, the storm troopers pinning him down once again. They weren't being nice about it, either. Eli was pretty sure they nearly broke his arm bending it behind his back. He screamed out in pain.

Eli's other hand was pulled from his chest too fast for him to resist – he could feel the click of the secret tile going back into place, almost as if the entire ship had been shaken. His tie to Thrawn, cut.

The restraints fell on his wrists too quick. The storm troopers had him pulled to his feet the next moment. Their actions pulled at his restraints, and Eli muffled a growl of pain.

"To the bridge," the captain said, apparently satisfied with the storm troopers work.

Eli felt his heart skip a beat.

The bridge? Not… to a detention cell?

"Oh," the captain stopped, though it was clear that he hadn't just thought of something. He looked at the storm troopers. "Remember that this is a message for the Grand Admiral, so… bloody him up a bit."


	8. Chapter 8

It took 17 minutes from the time Eli’s last cryptic message was sent to when Thrawn received his next message.

Down to the second, he knew exactly how long the time between the two was. 

The moment their communications link was cut, Thrawn’s eye was constantly on his chrono. The seconds adding up slowly, painfully. Each silent moment, without word from Eli, added a weight to Thrawn’s shoulders. A tension which became impossible to ignore.

His chest, incapable of deep breaths, radiated the pain of stress to the rest of his body. He was aware of his heart rate, the quickness of his breath, his vision hazy. 

Helplessness was not a place he was used to being.

But alone in his office, there was little to distract him. So he did the only thing he knew to do – plan.

Eli had been on the Ghost. The Ghost had been intercepted by an Imperial craft. 

Thrawn called up to the bridge, requesting the information. After all, if the bridge had received word that the Empire’s attempts to retrieve the kidnapped officer had proved to be successful, then surely, they’d know the name of the ship at least.

“Commander Vanto should be aboard the ship,” a voice answered the Grand Admiral’s request. “They report that the Ghost has left that sector.”

“The name of the rescue ship,” Thrawn stated again, clearly, having to mental check the tone on his voice. He was stressed, but it wasn’t the fault of the officer on the other end of the comm.

“We’re… still trying to recover that information, sir,” the voice came back.

“How did we learn of E- … Commander Vanto’s recovery if we were not communicating with the rescue ship?” Thrawn said.

“I’m not sure, Admiral. We’re going through our communications log now. It seems the name of the ship didn’t copy to our computers.”

“Thank you,” Thrawn said with considerable effort. 

Thrawn’s eyes narrowed. Whatever ship this was, it had been able to communicate with the Chimaera without revealing its own identification. Immediately suspicions were raised. It was not Imperial Navy protocol to block information like that. 

But why?

_Traitor…_

The word rang out in his head.

Whoever had Eli, they’d called him a traitor. They told him to stop resisting – suggesting he was being apprehended. Officially. With charges. Which meant the Empire. But the blocking of information meant they didn’t want Thrawn to know which ship had made the rescue. Breaking protocols. Suggesting either a splinter off the Empire, or something bigger than the Grand Admiral himself.

Whoever had done this didn’t know Eli had a separate means in which to communicate with Thrawn. Which meant they didn’t know he was aware of the accusation against Eli. So why would they report having Eli in the first place, if they were going to block information on the name of their craft?

Thrawn sent a message once again to the bridge. Make an immediate jump to the last known location of the Ghost.

When his holocall rang out the tone for receiving an incoming transmission, Thrawn accepted without a second thought.

And immediately felt like the floor slipped out from under his feet.

Whatever he expected, it wasn’t this.

It was Eli… just barely recognizable under the mask of blood. Blood. It was everywhere. Splattered down the front of his uniform. Pouring out of his nose. Dripping from his left ear. His eyes both looked swollen. His cheeks with spots of blood, oozing up to the surface, the noticeable contusions unmistakably left by the armored fists of a storm trooper. 

Eli was making a noticeable attempt to lift his head, but he was weak… dazed. Barely clinging to consciousness.

He was held up by two storm troopers. Uniforms indistinctive. The three standing before a plain white background. Meticulously bare. A quick scan of the holographic display revealed nothing that might tell something about where they could be. Not even what kind of ship they might be on. 

Whoever had done this… they knew Thrawn. They knew he would be looking for clues. They offered as few as possible.

“ _I hope I have your attention, Grand Admiral_ ,” the voice was scrambled. The speaker either one of the storm troopers or someone standing out of view.

Thrawn didn’t speak. His hands gripped the edge of his desk, his eyes locked forward. He could feel his blood boiling, his heart urging him to fight with each beat, a blanket of cool resolve hardly containing his rage.

“ _You will not be finding out who I am. You will not know if I work alone, or if all of the Empire is secretly working against you. My communications with you are blocked and you will only be speaking with me when I decide._

_“I only expect one thing from you. To annihilate the Rebellion. Swiftly. Without mercy. Fail to do so, and we will have another one of these holocalls. And next time, you will watch how well we do our work on him._

_“Attempt to find my ship, and your friend here will suffer for it. You see we started a bit rough. We can do much worse._

_“Though…_ ” the voice paused, savoring the moment. “ _I’m not sure your friend will be able to handle what we have planned next. He’s so… frail_.”

The call ended abruptly.

Thrawn started, not expecting the emptiness so soon. A second passed, and the helplessness at being unable to do anything to help Eli quickly converted into rage. 

Thrawn screamed, his cool exterior shattering. There was nothing to unleash his anger on, except the art in his office. It seemed only a mockery of his helplessness. A blatant symbol of his strengths, now being used against him.

By the time he collapsed on the ground, exhausted, chest heaving, his office was thoroughly destroyed. The giant slab of retaining wall from Lothal, crumbled into sizeable chucks, laying upon his crumpled desk. 

In the moments of silence, Thrawn’s fingers hovered, trembling over his rank plaque. Logic barely holding back the desperate need to hear from Eli. To know he was okay. To apologize… 

But to also make a vow. 

Whoever was behind this, the galaxy was too small a place to hide in.


	9. chapter 9

Eli opened his eyes with difficulty.

Why he wanted to wake up, he couldn’t figure out. His head felt like it was splitting, a white hot iron pounding against his skull, a hammer scrambling his thoughts. He closed his eyes, trying to drift back to unconsciousness, and couldn’t.

With some effort, Eli managed to push himself up, and regretted it immediately. A wave of dizziness hit him, and he found himself laying on the ground again, eyes slammed shut. But he couldn’t fall back asleep.

A minute later and the dizziness had passed. He waited until then to open his eyes, and he glanced around. He was in a small room… completely bare. Just four walls, a door… no bed, chair, nothing.

Almost without thinking, Eli reached down and clicked on the secret tile in his rank plaque.

“Thawn?” he croaked, surprised at the slur of his voice, the sudden stab of pain in his jaw keeping him from saying much else.

“Eli?” the answer was immediate, the tone on the voice foreign. Emotional was certainly not a way Eli was used to hearing Thrawn sound.

“Are you okay?” The follow up question was said in Sy Bisti. 

Eli groaned, lifting a hand to his face. He was still struggling to understand what happened. Somewhere in the back of his head he’d made the decision to contact Thrawn without fully understanding why he felt such a need. Now that he’d been prompted to think about how he felt, he realized he’d been in some kind of fight.

“I thin’ so,” he lied, badly, also answering in Sy Bisti. Though why they were talking in that language, Eli wasn’t fully clear on.

“Eli, listen to me,” Thrawn said. “You are not fine. I need to you focus. Where are you? Look around. Describe it.”

Eli looked up, at the single, blindingly bright light above. The walls, absolutely flat. The door, without a control panel to access its functions. It was certainly a cell of some kind.

“A detention cell,” Eli said. “There’s nothin’ here to describe.”

“The dimensions,” Thrawn prompted. “Color of the walls.”

Eli groaned, trying to translate what he saw into numbers. “A… couple of meters- Maybe a little bit… longer than I am tall. Um… the walls are black. There’s no bunk or anythin’… It’s like… a closet…” Glancing around the ceiling, he quickly added, “There’s no security… no control panel for the door. Nothing. There’s one light in the center of the ceiling.”

“Good,” Thrawn said. “I can access schematics of every ship in the fleet and eliminate those that don’t have a room fitting that description.”

Eli smiled a bit, and felt the sting in his lip return. He reached up a hand and when he pulled his hand away, he jumped. His fingers were coated in blood.

“I’m bleeding,” Eli said.

“Still?” Thrawn asked.

“Still?” Eli repeated.

“You were bleeding four hours ago,” Thrawn asked. “Do you not remember what happened to you?”

Eli winced, trying to recall. “The captain. He said I was a message. For you.”

“A captain,” Thrawn said. “Describe him.”

Eli closed his eyes and tried to remember. It was fuzzy. “He was… taller than me, shorter than you… pale skin… dark hair. He had a Mid Rim accent. I can’t remember his eyes.”

“That’s fine,” Thrawn said. “And the ship. What do you remember about the ship.”

“I never saw it,” Eli said. “But… it was empty. The only people I saw was the captain and a handful of stormtroopers. The ship wasn’t very big. Maybe… a shuttle, or a transport of some kind.” 

“Perhaps a ship from my own fleet,” Thrawn mused.

“Sir?” Eli asked.

“Since we’ve been on Ryloth, smaller ships have been traveling back and forth from the planet, to deliver troops and supplies,” Thrawn said quickly, sounding like his old self. He was on the hunt, his mind being put to use solving a problem, not consumed in helplessness. “Whoever is behind this, they were waiting for a chance to find you alone. They were able to move quickly, organize enough participants to pilot a ship and follow the Ghost. If they wish to remain hidden, they will return to the fleet before the ship is noticed missing.”

Eli smiled, and then winced in pain.

“What did they want from you?” Eli asked.

“To destroy the Rebellion,” Thrawn answered.

Eli frowned. “But that was our assignment in the first place.”

“Then they must have reason to believe my efforts in this endeavor may not be successful,” Thrawn said.

“Or they’re using the Rebellion as a test for what they really want to use you for,” Eli suggested.

Thrawn was silent for quite a while before saying, “An interesting idea.”

“So what do we-” Eli asked, but just then, there was a sound of footsteps falling on the other side of the door. “Someone’s here.”

Eli moved his hand away from his rank plaque just in time. The door slid open, the captain from before standing in the doorway with two storm troopers.

“I see you’re awake,” the captain said. He stepped into the room, which suddenly become stiflingly overcrowded. Eli tried to push away from them, but the two storm troopers grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet.

Eli tried to maintain the growl on his face. It helped hide the fact that his hands were trembling and his heart rate sky rocketing. Not again…  
The captain stood in front of him, and produced a small tub of… Eli felt his chest collapse in a sigh. Bacta salve…

The captain noticed Eli’s relief.

“Well, Commander. Don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not being nice. But I certainly don’t want you dead yet.”

“Should I be thanking you?” Eli grumbled.

“For healing you? Unless you prefer a quick death to the drawn out one I’m planning,” the captain said, locking eyes with Eli as he scooped some of the salve into his hand. “Because you will die. And I will enjoy killing you, traitor.”

“You keep calling me that,” Eli said, turning his head away from the captain’s approaching hand.

“Shhhhh,” the captain said, grabbing Eli’s jaw in his free hand. Eli winced. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be healed. He just didn’t want this guy’s hands touching him. And the way he applied the salve? It was creepily gentle. A mind game. Eli did his best to bear it, until the fingers touched his lips. He jerked his head again, trying to break away.

One of the storm troopers grabbed a fist full of Eli’s hair, yanking his head back. He cried out in surprise, which made the captain tut at him mockingly.

“Now you’ve made it worse,” he said, but instead of reapplying his grip to Eli’s jaw, the captain grabbed his throat.

Eli struggled against the storm troopers holding him in place, but the grip on his throat was strong. His hands clawed desperately in the air, but he was helpless to save himself.

“Stop resisting,” the captain said. “And this won’t be the way you die.”

Having the mental power to stop resisting when his lungs were screaming for air was borderline impossible, but Eli stopped. When the hand released, he coughed desperately, gulping in air.

“Now stay still,” the captain said, running his fingers over Eli’s lips. Eli just kept his eyes closed. 

Stupid, he scolded himself. This wasn’t worth getting himself hurt worse over. It wouldn’t help Thrawn, and it certainly wasn’t helping himself.

“And you are a traitor,” the captain said, picking up the theme from earlier. “A traitor to your kind. Choosing the alien.”   
Eli bit back the response he’d love to say. So that’s what this was? Some xenophobic jerks trying to take Thrawn down? But why would they want him to destroy the Rebellion? If anything, wouldn’t they want him to fail?

“What’s this?” the captain said. Eli’s eyes shot open – the tone on the man’s voice was genuine surprise. Eli notice his attention was on his chest. Eli’s eyes darted down, growing in size as he realized his mistake.

Eli’s hands… they were covered in blood. He’d rubbed his face before he talked to Thrawn. And there it was… a dead giveaway. His rank plaque, with bloody smudges all over it, finger prints on one of the tiles…


	10. chapter 10

Thrawn got to work the second the commlink cut out. He already had his suspicions that the ship Eli was on had to be one from his own fleet. There was no other way for that ship to know exactly when Eli had become separated from Thrawn, a detail in which these Imperial outcasts’ entire plan seemed to revolve around. There had been no other ships in the system as far as Thrawn could tell, and besides, the idea that a ship could just hang around their fleet without raising suspicions, endlessly, waiting for this chance, was illogical.

Thrawn pulled up schematics on his datapad of the smaller shuttles in the fleet, his eyes quickly scanning the etched designs for a room similar to the one Eli described. Eli had described it as a detention cell, but more than likely it was a repurposed supply closet of some kind. One with all the trappings of a supply closet removed. One already prepared for its purpose.

Whoever was behind this attack, they were well prepared. Again, suggesting it was mutiny within Thrawn’s own ranks. But for what purpose, Thrawn still hadn’t decided.

Thrawn opened up another window on his datapad, checking the current location of the homing beacon he’d installed in Eli’s rank plaque. Still in the same place it had been for the last five hours – only a short hyperspace jump from where the Ghost had been when the exchange was made. 

He couldn’t fault the rebel crew. There was no way they could have known the identity of the shuttle crew when the exchange was made. Though secretly Thrawn faulted them for walking so obviously into a trap. What Imperial ship would let them go? When they’d been hunted for the better part of the previous two years?

Unless they had been working with them.

Thrawn immediately dismissed the idea. From everything he’d learned about these rebels, they were decent people. They didn’t torture. They didn’t kill without their hands being forced. They had just been careless.

While his eyes continuing scanning the ship schematics, Thrawn reached out and hit the button to talk with the bridge.

“Lieutenant, get me a list of every shuttle and cargo ship on mission during the last six hours,” Thrawn ordered. 

He smiled softly to himself. This would all be wrapped up soon. He would narrow down the likely ship class with the schematics, then double check that against the mission log. With any luck, Eli would be back in time for dinner. 

And, Thrawn thought as his eyes scanned his office, Eli would probably have something interesting to say about the mess he’d made.

A soft click at his chest, a signal from his rank plaque, and the smile widened. Leaving Eli ‘alone’ for a few minutes was causing Thrawn to worry, and even if Eli didn’t have any new information to share, just being able to talk to him would reassure Thrawn that he was alright.

“You sneaky devil.” 

It was the voice of the nameless captain.

“Go on, say something,” the voice coaxed sarcastically. “Let me know it’s really you.”

Thrawn clenched his hand into fists. Once again, this adversary had bested him. But he wouldn’t obey his commands. 

“That’s okay,” the voice said with an audible sigh. “I have ways to correct that pride of yours.”

A moment too late, Thrawn realized the price was not something he was willing to pay. 

The scream which emanated from his rank plaque cut into Thrawn like a knife, knocked his feet out from under him. It wasn’t just a yell of pain or fear, it was the sound of someone being tortured on a completely inhumane level. 

Desperately, Thrawn tried to click on his own tile, to tell them he would cooperate, but with the captain on the other end holding down his, there was no way for him to cut through and talk. He was forced to listen. He’d put Eli into this position. 

Thrawn felt another stab in his chest as Eli let out a desperate plea for them to stop. 

“Can you imagine what we are doing to him?” the captain cooed, thoroughly enjoying the power he had over Thrawn. “I’m not sure which is worse… hearing it and letting your imagination fill in the blanks, or watching.”

Thrawn growled, but he was helpless. If he destroyed his own half of the commlink, there would be no real way for the captain to know, and there was no telling what further torment the man would inflict on Eli.

And then suddenly, Eli’s voice, “His name is-”

The comm cut out.


	11. chapter 11

It wasn't until he was debriefing with Hera that Ezra realized there was something off about Thrawn. Something more 'off' than the fact that the alien who wanted to defect to the Rebellion had forced one of the rebels to kill himself.

But unfortunately, Hera still looked shocked at how their supposed ally had acted.

"There was something else, too," Ezra said quickly. "Thrawn was alone."

"Alone?"

"Yeah, Eli wasn't with him."

Only he and Hera had seen the two officers working together on Ryloth, but the entire Ghost crew had heard Eli say that he and Thrawn were practically inseparable. Was that enough to account for the complete shift in character?

When Ezra had first seen Thrawn, he had been cold and calculating, yes – but also fairly compassionate. At least to the suffering of the innocent. He'd called out a fellow Imperial officer on stealing from the starving. But this time, on Lothal, the compassion was gone. He'd moved into unforgivable territory. Murder.

It just didn't feel right.

"Something's wrong," Hera said. "We handed Eli over to the Empire."

"Did we?" Ezra asked. "What if that shuttle wasn't the Empire? Maybe Thrawn thinks we double crossed him?"

"Calm down," Kanan interjected. "Just because Eli wasn't there in the factory doesn't mean something bad happened to him."

 

"Well then where was he?" Ezra asked.

"I don't know," Kanan said, straining for an explanation. "He could have been sick."

Ezra shot his master an annoyed look, which of course Kanan couldn't see. Granted, the chuckle from Zeb on the other side of the holocall gave it away.

"Yeah, I tend to murder people when my friends are sick, too," Ezra muttered under his breath. "There's something more behind this, I know it. You don't go from defending starving refugees to murder like that. Maybe the Empire figured out they were going to defect. And they're using Eli as collateral? Hera?"

Ezra knew appealing to Hera was the smart move here.

Though defending Thrawn felt strange, even to him. Sumar had been a friend of his parents. He had been helping to stop the Empire by sabotaging what he made at the factory. But deep down, the shift of character continued to stick out.

And, as Hera had confessed to him, the Rebellion could certainly use a military genius like Thrawn on their side.

"We have the call sign of the vessel we gave Eli over to," Hera mused.

"Wait a minute, we weren't even sure if we were going to help them in the first place," Sabine pointed out. "We can't just go searching for a ship when we have plans for a new kind of TIE fighter being made right now on Lothal. This is something tangible."

"Speaking of these plans," Hera said. "How did you get out of the factory with them if Thrawn wasn't helping-"

"I guess we could thank Agent Kallus-"

-SWR-

"And when we find our spy, and we will find them, we shall turn them from an obstacle, into an asset. Wouldn't you agree, Agent Kallus?"

"Your strategy is without flaw, Grand Admiral," Agent Kallus murmured. "As always."

Thrawn let the threat hang in the air for a moment, before dismissing Governor Pryce. He smiled slightly in victory as Kallus's body tensed up even more. So he really had been helping the rebellion? An interesting development. One that seemed to surface at precisely the moment Thrawn needed a secret way to communicate with them.

Once they were alone, Thrawn began.

"I know you helped the rebels escape," he said, choosing his words carefully. "And-"

Thrawn growled. Kallus wouldn't even let him finish. The ISB agent wheeled around, charging, ready to fight. Thrawn waited, seeing what he would open up with, quickly analyzing the best method to pin Kallus long enough to talk.

Kallus threw a punch, which Thrawn dodged easily. He ducked down underneath Kallus's out-stretched arm, grabbing his wrist as he did so. He then stepped back into Kallus at a crouch. Simultaneously standing up and pulling on Kallus's arm, he managed to scoop up Kallus onto his back. And before the agent could resist, he'd flipped over the Chiss and landed with a thud on the ground.

Thrawn didn't let go of the arm, but rather used his hold to flip Kallus over onto his stomach. Before the agent could figure out what had happened, Thrawn twisted the arm behind Kallus's back and fell on top of him, pinning him to the floor. Just the tiniest amount of pressure on Kallus's elbow was enough to inflict debilitating pain. Kallus only tried to resist once and the lesson was swiftly learned.

"Listen to me," Thrawn said calmly. "I need you to contact the rebels."

"I'd just as soon let you execute me for-"

"You misunderstand me, Agent Kallus," Thrawn said. "Commander Vanto is being held as a hostage by members of my own fleet."

It was painful to admit openly that he'd been backed into a corner, but Thrawn braced himself and went on, "His life is contingent upon me acting upon their whims, and I will not stand for it. Your rebel friends were the last to see Commander Vanto before he was abducted. I wish to ask them for information on the ship they released him to. I will let you up now."

Thrawn was convinced that there would be no fight left in Kallus after explaining himself. Still, he raised an eyebrow in confusion when Kallus got to his feet and put some distance between them. Perhaps he was still in shock.

Agent Kallus searched Thrawn's face, as though trying to determine whether or not this was a trap. Thrawn calmly returned his arms behind his back. The men merely stared at each other.

"Will you contact them?" Thrawn repeated his request after he grew tired of waiting.

"And if I did?" Kallus asked, still skeptical. "What then?"

"We all have our assigned roles," Thrawn said. "Unless of course, you plan to defect."

Kallus continued to stare, disbelief on his face, "That's… it? You'd just let me go."

"In matters concerning loyalty to ones' friends," Thrawn said. "I would be prepared to sacrifice much."

-SWR-

Eli opened his eyes slowly, and grumbled to himself.

He hadn't been asleep that long. No matter how much he told himself that he urgently needed sleep, it was turning out to be impossible in his current situation.

First of all, he was freezing. The captain had told him he was no longer fit to wear the uniform of an Imperial officer and took it, leaving Eli in nothing more than his undershirt and drawers. He tucked his arms into his shirt, wrapping them around his chest, in an effort to stay warm, but it did little to help.

The sleep deprivation was nearly as bad as the thirst. Or the hunger. It had been days, probably, since Eli'd last see his captors. And as happy as he was to see them go, the more time dragged on, Eli wondered if they'd just left him to die.

At least he'd outsmarted them.

The captain had turned off the commlink the moment Eli shouted out that he knew the captain's name. The idea had just popped in his head as a desperate effort to stop them from hurting him. It worked.

The captain had wheeled on the two stormtroopers, demanding to know which one of them had been so careless as to mention his name in front of the prisoner. Eli had smiled to himself – he'd made the whole thing up. He'd never heard a name. But it was enough for them to cut the communications. Enough for them to stop hurting him. To spare Thrawn from hearing his cries.

It took a few long minutes for the captain to realize Eli had outdone them. By then it was too late – he'd snapped the rank plaque in half.

They'd dragged him out of his cell. To be brought before their holoprojector. To continue their call to Thrawn.

And then Eli'd paid for it.

The only way Eli was still alive was because his captors had been on the spot with the bacta. For a few terrifying seconds, Eli truly thought he was going to die. It wasn't just the beating, even though he'd had his fair share of that.

There was the gruesome moment – when one of the stormtroopers had grabbed a fist full of his hair, pulling his head back, exposing his neck, and the next, Eli was released. He slumped forward, holding himself up with trembling arms. And watched with horror as blood poured out onto the floor.

It hadn't hurt, and it took a moment to realize that the captain had sliced his neck open with a knife. The sight of bright red blood – his blood - sprayed all over the floor still made Eli a little queasy to think about. Eli had gripped helplessly at his neck, trying to apply pressure to the wound, to stop it.

The captain just loomed over him, patiently waiting. The seconds were painfully long, drawn out. Until Eli made up his mind that he really was about to die. And then the next moment, his captors came to his aid. Applied a bacta patch on the wound, holding him steady until the worst was over.

What Thrawn must have thought about that, Eli dared not dwell on it.

He was still in shock when the captain dragged him back into his cell.

Eli had no idea when they'd healed the rest of his injuries, but he woke up without a mark to show for all they did to him. Unfortunately, it didn't mean he was feeling any better. The sleep deprivation was slowly eating at his perceptions of reality. His eyes were aching with fatigue. Not to mention the thirst.

As much as he wanted to call out and beg for water, in the back of Eli's head, he knew it would merely be a call for attention. Attention Eli certainly wanted to avoid.  
So… he tried a Thrawn tactic. He planned.

When the nameless captain wheeled on his two storm troopers, thinking one of them had slipped up and said his name, Eli picked up some things from the conversation. He was almost entirely sure the captain wasn't a captain at all, but a storm trooper disguised as an officer.

They spoke far too comfortably to one another for there to be a proper officer-enlisted relationship. Unless the storm troopers were actually officers in disguise.

Now how to communicate that in a simple sentence?

Eli was fairly confident that if he did enough screaming, the next time they brought him out to be tortured for the Grand Admiral, he could mask a message in Sy Bisti for Thrawn. If only he could think of the right information.

No matter what he came up with, he had to think of a solution fast.

If the captain was already at the level of slitting his throat, Eli dreaded to think what he would do next.


	12. chapter 12

"Oh," Thrawn said, his eyes flickering around his office. "Don't mind the mess."

Kallus stepped into the room, and felt the sharp uptick of his heart rate jolt his body.

No wonder Thrawn didn't hold his debriefing in his office.

It looked like someone had ransacked the place. Every last one of Thrawn's precious little art pieces was smashed. Even the giant section of retaining wall from Lothal's Capital City was in chunks. Thrawn's desk, crumpled underneath it.

 _Mental note,_ Kallus told himself. _Don't make Thrawn angry._

It was certainly one way to set the mood. The dark room. The absolute mess of things.

Even if it was carefully staged, a masterminded manipulation, Kallus let it intimidate him. There were few things he wanted to experience. The bad end of Thrawn's rage was not one of them.

"Agent Kallus," Thrawn said, redirecting the agent's thoughts, and with a wave of his hand, invited Kallus to sit at his desk.

"The rebels," he reminded him. Kallus shuddered at his deceptively calm voice, knowing that lurking underneath was the anger which had ruined the office.

"I can't just contact them from _here_ ," Kallus said. There was protocol… encryptions. The transmitter he used, hidden away in Ezra's old communications tower hideout, was specifically designed by the Rebellion so that the destination of the transmissions were unable to be traced.

Even Kallus didn't know where his transmissions went. Or how his messages ended up getting to the Lothal rebels.

"I see," Thrawn said, his voice icy. "I miscalculated your use to me."

A shiver ran down Kallus's spine. He glanced around the office again.

"There's a transmitter I use in a secret location," Kallus said. "If you'd allow me, I could go and-"

"That would require time I don't have," Thrawn said, turning around to face him, his glowing eyes somehow more menacing. "And now I may have uncovered how best to use you."

Kallus tried not to look nervous, hoping Thrawn's plans weren't as horrible as the Chiss was making it seem.

"Whoever has Commander Vanto warned me against attempting to track them down," Thrawn said. "Suggesting that there are many within the Seventh Fleet who may be involved with this extortion. However, your desire to aid the rebels clears you of any connection. And so-"

But just then, the beep of a holocall echoed into the room.

Thrawn grimaced a tad.

"This will be them," Thrawn said, suddenly so professional. "A moment of privacy, if you please, Agent Kallus. The adjacent training room will be sufficient. And if you would be so kind as to lock yourself in. I don't imagine this will go very well, and I do not wish to take my frustrations out on you."

Kallus didn't need to be told twice. Though he wondered what he had gotten himself into a few minutes later, when he was on the other side of the door, Thrawn's tormented screams coming from his office… wondering what was going on, and more importantly, hoping the lock would hold.

\- SWR -

"You're going for it," Kanan said.

"Well someone's obviously not very happy with my plan," Hera said, getting into the pilot's seat and punching data into her nav computer.

"It's not the plan," Kanan said. "It's the people the plan is about. Sticking our neck out for Thrawn isn't exactly what I'd call a smart move."

Hera shot Kanan a look out of sheer force of habit.

"You're… glaring daggers at me, aren't you?" Kanan said.

"Very perceptive," Hera said coolly, going back to her data.

"And sticking out our necks for Thrawn might be the smartest thing we _can_ do," Hera went on. "We might not like him, but we certainly don't want him as our adversary. If he didn't know what side to fight on, helping him's going to do a lot to make up his mind."

"I just can't shake the feeling that it's more complicated than Eli led on," Kanan said.

"Because of Sumar?"

"Ezra's not taking it well."

Hera felt a twinge of motherly affection for her crewmate. Part of her wanted to go find Ezra and sit him down for a chat. But the rebel captain was just as loud. Her intuition told her that Eli had been sincere about him and Thrawn defecting. Her intuition also told her that with Eli missing, and a strange Imperial ship showing up to grab him, that Thrawn was being manipulated into doing what the Empire wanted.

"But even Ezra thought there was more to it," Hera pointed out. "And there's only one way to be sure."

Kanan sighed. "Track down the ship. I'm guessing you're punching in the route back to Lothal?"

"Nothing gets by you, dear," Hera said.

The final numbers were locked into the computer. Hera pulled back on the hyperdrive, watching the stars morph into lines of light.

\- SWR -

The door slid open, yet Eli could barely lift his head.

There was no way he could measure time, but he was sure it had been days since the last time he'd been paid a visit from his captors. Which meant it'd been days since he'd eaten or drunk anything. He was freezing, and felt delirious from lack of sleep. The only rest he'd managed to get since he'd woken up on this ship came in the form of unconsciousness, and that didn't really count.

"So melodramatic," the nameless captain said, stepping into the room. "Such a privileged life you must have led. To suffer so quickly by being without."

Eli grumbled but didn't bother to get up. He didn't want to point out that he'd lost a lot of blood with the last stunt the captain had pulled – and the lack of water was actually fairly dangerous.

"I had no idea the alien would be so easy to play," the captain continued. "He's already killed one rebel. Murdered him. By his own hands. And I have you to thank for that."

Eli glared but didn't say anything. If this captain thought he was going to get upset because Thrawn's hand had been forced… but the captain didn't specify who Thrawn had killed. What if it was a member of the Ghost crew? What if it was a lie?

Eli knew he couldn't chase down the 'what ifs.' Especially when two storm troopers walked into the room. He groaned again.

"I was hoping he would mess up," the captain said. "I had a truly wonderful punishment planned for the alien. But he's such an obedient little dog, isn't he? Doesn't make a difference to you either way. I was saving this for when he failed, but _this_ one," he jabbed a thumb in the direction of one of the storm troopers, "says if you don't get something to drink, you'll die."

Eli lifted his head, finally interested enough to pay attention.

"And as much as I'd love to find out what he'd do for a corpse, that'll have to wait."

Eli scowled, and even though his arms were trembling, he pushed himself up to a sitting position. The promise of 'something to drink' hung on the air.

"Oh, don't look so happy," the captain said, a smirk spreading over his face. "You don't think I'd just _give_ you some water. You're going to have to show me how much you want it."

A shiver ran down Eli's spine.

But if he didn't drink something, he knew he wouldn't last much longer.

"What do you want me to do?" Eli said, surprised at how his voice sounded after not using it for days.

"Endure," the captain said.

And from behind his back, he procured three things. One, a tall cylinder. The walls of the container were clear so Eli could see there was liquid sloshing around inside. His stomach twisted in desperation.

The other thing was a portable holoprojector… but it was the third thing which filled Eli with dread.

It looked like some kind of mechanics tool. A metal rod attached to a handle. What it was actually used for, Eli had no clue. It didn't really matter. What mattered most was that when the captain hit a button, the metal started to slowly change colors… from silver, to orange, to a blistering red.

"I can only imagine how thirsty you are," the captain teased. "I drained quite a bit of blood from you the other day. And I've been told that the more blood you lose, the thirstier it makes you.

"So I'm going to ask you to make a choice. Choose the route of pain for water, or avoid pain and suffer your thirst."

"You can't be serious," Eli said.

"Oh, I am," the captain said, setting down his holoprojector. "The only thing I'm not sure about right now is how to deal with that mouth of yours. I don't want you saying anything you're not supposed to… but those screams are what gets your alien to do what we want him to.

"Which is, in a way, why I decided to go with burning. The pain will be bad enough you wouldn't want to force me to burn you again."

The captain considered the expression that had appeared on Eli's face and said, "You want to please me. Good. We'll let you scream.

"Now, I want to hear you say it. How badly do you want some water?"

"I _need_ water," Eli said.

"And you're going to let me hurt you to get it."

"Fine," Eli said, closing his eyes, regretting the whimpering way his words sounded.

The captain looked at the storm troopers. "Take off his shirt."

Eli didn't have the strength to resist them. One of them pinned him to the floor, the other pulling up the back of his shirt, exposing his back.

"Don't worry, I'll only do it once," the captain said, kneeling next to him, holding the red-hot tool close, his fingers petting a spot on Eli's back which he guessed was where the captain was planning to burn him. "As long as you behave."

"You know, if you scream well enough, I might even let you eat something," the captain said, reaching over to activate the holocall. "You say anything, any word at all, and we'll keep this up until there's nothing left on your body to burn."

Eli closed his eyes, wincing in anticipation.

And screamed.

The initial pain was unbearable enough. But the captain held the smoldering metal against his skin without letting up. The screams coming out of his mouth were unintelligible. Any thought he had for slipping Thrawn a coded message in Sy Bisti were long forgotten.

The pain kept growing in ferocity – the burn spreading and attacking more and more of his body. Eli jerked involuntarily, ripping an arm free from one of the stormtroopers, his body somehow finding strength it didn't have only moments previously.

His hand moved without Eli even thinking about it, and before Eli knew what had happened, his hand stung… the burn sending a sharp stab of pain down his arm. his stomach stabbed with a wave of nausea. He'd reached back and tried to grab at the thing burning him, to get it off of his body. It was completely illogical, but the pain Eli was enduring made it so he couldn't think rationally at all.

His legs kicked wildly, he drew his injured hand close to his chest, pressing it against the cold metal ground – anything to stop the pain. And the screams... Eli had no idea he could sound like that. It wasn't even like a human screaming anymore. The pitch, the desperation...

Finally. The captain had perhaps only held the thing to Eli's back for a few seconds, but the seconds had dragged on in excruciating torture.

But the thing was, once the captain backed away, the pain didn't dull. It didn't stop. If anything, it just continued to grow… to spread. Eli could feel it, like a tsunami, slowly consuming new tissue. Free to move, Eli just writhed pathetically on the ground, his screams only hindered by his need to breath.

Eli screamed pitifully, the sudden spike in frantic energy fading as fast as it came. He was staring at the holoprojector. The blue hologram of Thrawn… staring back….

And then, quite unexpectedly, the hologram started to become _brighter._ The blue became brilliant, as if the hologram was malfunctioning. The image started to blur. The image became so blinding that it changed from blue to white. A white blob on his vision… and that blob began to spread, slowly consuming Eli's entire field of vision. He blinked, but even with his eyes closed, there was nothing but white.

_I'm dead._

But Eli could feel his breathing, quick and shallow, he could still feel the pain. His vocal chords were raw in his throat…

And then hands grabbed onto him, pulled him up to a sitting position. One hand yanking his head back, other hands holding him under his arms. Without warning, his mouth was flooded with water. He wasn't prepared for it. Even with his eyes wide open he hadn't seen the container approach. As desperately as he needed water, he couldn't breath. He tried to break away, but the hands grabbin him were stronger. He choked as water was poured down his throat – he was still screaming in pain and couldn't help breathing in the water instead of drinking it.

He coughed, and was thrown down to the ground.

"Ungrateful," the captain's voice. "All that effort and you don't even drink."

Eli opened his mouth to say something, to beg, but all that came out was more desperate coughing. Most of the water he'd been given had ended up on the floor. He tried to hold himself up, but put down the hand he had burned. He dropped to the ground, heaving and coughing one moment, sucking in air the next. He heard a click – the holocall was over, probably – and footsteps walking away. The sound of something being set down on the metal floor, close to the entrance. Perhaps the water container? Eli couldn't tell.

The sound of the door sliding open.

"Oh," Eli heard the captain say. "I'm afraid we're all out of bacta, traitor. Have fun with that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. WELL THAT WAS FUN.
> 
> Also – just going to say this before anyone says anything. The thing about Eli's vision going white. I'm writing this from experience. I was once in extreme physical distress and this happened to me. I was staring at something green, which became neon green, then white, and then my entire vision became white. It was like that for about 30 minutes. No one's been able to explain why that happened other than shock.
> 
> Also also also. Poor Eli will need to be rescued very, very, very soon. He's in shock himself. And shock can kill much easier than torture.


	13. chapter 13

The atmosphere of safety that came with silence was deceptive.

Kallus put his ear to the door, listening, wondering if it was safe to come out. _Safe to come out._ Thought as though he was a child.

Granted, he'd never had to hide from someone like Thrawn before.

It had been a minute or more since the screams stopped. _The screams._ Kallus couldn't remember the last time he'd heard a sound like that… and only when he'd been leading troops into battle, defending civilians from insurgents… when parents would find their children dead… that was the sound Thrawn had made. The helplessness… the loss. The frantic desire to undo what could not be undone.

Kallus wondered how long he could realistically stay locked up in the room.

He put his ear back to the door when suddenly there was a knock.

_Do I risk it?_

"Agent Kallus, open the door."

The voice was hardly recognizable.

_Could it be a trap?_

Ignoring his ISB instincts and better judgement, Kallus reached over and hit the release for the door. It slid open.

Thrawn was obviously trying very hard to keep it together, and had no clue how badly he was failing. He leaned against the door frame, holding himself up with an outstretched arm. His fingers trembled ever so slightly. His chest, rising and falling, in halting breaths. He looked exhausted, the glint of purpose gone from his eyes, his posture hunched. Yet he kept up with appearances… even though there were cracks in the façade, and inside there was an avalanche just barely contained.

"I need your assistance," Thrawn said, his voice somehow both authoritative and yet barely more than a whisper. "If you are willing to help."

Well _that_ threw Kallus off. _Willing?_

"Your allegiances are now with the Rebellion, are they not?" Thrawn asked.

Kallus hesitated.

"Sir…?"

"Your allegiances," Thrawn repeated. "You have explored the way in which the Empire has effected the galaxy, and your own role in it. You have come to realize that staying with the Empire will only result in more suffering for you and the ones you now call your friends. So your heart is with the rebels."

Kallus could feel his jaw drop.

"I trust you will do the right thing," Thrawn said. "Please, we are running out of time."

"How did you-"

"I know," Thrawn said simply.

Kallus hesitated another moment, but… he'd said _please_. It was such a drastic shift in character. The situation must have been something his character wasn't adapted for.

"They've made their mistake," Thrawn said, though Kallus had no idea who 'they' were. "But as I have explained, I fear there are many within my ranks who are against me. My actions may be watched. I am going to ask you to play a role. And I will use this opportunity to formally defect."

Kallus needed a moment to process everything. It was more than just Thrawn's actions. His speech was noticeably disjointed, as though he couldn't follow one line of thought anymore. But even the words he used. _Defect._

Whatever was going on, it was bad. And Kallus realized that no matter what emotion it was the Chiss was trying so hard to subdue – whether it was anger or grief – he didn't want to find out how Thrawn would react if he refused.

"What do you need me to do?"

The Chiss's shoulders dropped ever so slightly. An action Kallus was sure he would have contained had he been more of himself.

"I ask of you your services as an ISB agent," Thrawn said.

Kallus picked up on Thrawn's speech… how it was breaking up. Attempts to sound official were coming off wrong. He felt another shiver race down his spine.

"You want me to be a double agent?" Kallus asked, partly relieved. Or would this now be a _triple_ agent?

"This is what you have been doing," Thrawn said. Not a question. A statement. Kallus swallowed back his apprehension.

"It is," he said, his mind finally resolved. "What would you have me do?"

"There will be a shuttle returning," Thrawn said. "I cannot pinpoint the exact class, but you will know it as the one requesting medical supplies and no other cargo, put on an emergency landing status, specifically they will need bacta, saline, and stim-shots. There will be a man dressed as a captain. Tell him you know he is an ISB operative and that you were detailed by Colonel Yularen to assist him. Do you know any first aid?"

"Yes," Kallus said, surprised. He started at the mention of his old mentor, but thought better than to ask questions.

"Then provide the best you can," Thrawn said. "Commander Vanto's life will depend on it. You should be able to find a terminal which can direct you to whichever hanger bay this shuttle lands in. Go."

Kallus stood there, completely dumbfounded. Questions were exploding in his head, but he felt it better to not ask.

"And you, sir?" Kallus asked.

"I was just alerted that the _Ghost_ has entered the system," Thrawn said. "I will be joining them, and, I believe, seeing you again shortly."

-SWR-

"Sir… what happens if we… kill the prisoner?"

The words took nearly all of Eli's effort to understand. His consciousness seemed to come in waves, slowly receding away and then coming back, but never quite all there. Something about what was being said now, though, seemed to draw him back to reality. Why it mattered to him, Eli didn't have a clue.

"What do you mean, _if_?"

The voice was familiar but too distant for Eli to recognize.

"He's done."

"You mean dead."

"He's not dead…"

Eli felt a hand touch the side of his neck, fingers pressing deeply into his flesh. Maybe in another life he would have jerked away, but he hardly cared now. The hand was removed, and then something was suddenly waved in front of his eyes. All Eli could do was continue to stare blankly away.

"…yet."

It was then that Eli realized his eyes were already opened, and he was staring out into space. The room slowly came back, but he couldn't move. It hadn't occurred to him that the last time he remembered being conscious, he hadn't been able to see anything at all.

"What did you do with him?"

"The alien needed persuading-"

"The alien was doing exactly what we wanted him to do. Don't spin this any other way. Your records show you had a bent for sadism, that's why you were selected for the job. So what happened? Got carried away?"

"I only did-"

"We need _leverage_. Do you have any idea what will happen if Commander Vanto dies?"

"Yes-"

"Obviously, you don't. Because the fear of losing any power over the alien will have made you unable to so much as slap Vanto. If he dies, you die."

"Sir… it's just… It's not that serious. We've run out of bacta-"

"Run out!? It's been a week. What have you managed to do in a week?"

The other was silent.

"If there's a chance to extend Vanto's life, we have to take it. So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to schedule you in for an emergency supply run. Get some medical supplies for you.

"Hangar bay 32-17. Make it quick. The alien's been obedient so far – there's nothing in his computer access records to suggest he's trying to find out where you are, but he's clever. Pick up your supplies and get back to the routine."

The hand was touching his neck again, but this time was followed by a slap in the face. Eli wasn't too phased by it. He probably blinked an extra time in response.

Whoever slapped him sighed.

And then Eli felt the hand prod him in the back. The pain which flooded his body was like lightning, pain receptors electrified sharply, overwhelming all thoughts.

But his body didn't move at all.

His tormentor just sighed again.

"Don't die, traitor," he said. "I've never had a corpse before. You don't want to know what I'd plan to do with yours."

-SWR-

The mottled blue outside the _Ghost's_ viewport suddenly changed to starlines and then to individual pinpricks of light. Hera settled herself into her pilot's chair. They'd returned back to Lothal as she'd expected. The _Chimaera_ was still floating in orbit.

"We're looking for the _Yendum_ ," Hera announced, looking through the list of ships suddenly populating her computers.

"And you don't think they've scrambled their signature because…" Ezra asked, in that voice which strayed too close to being a smartass for Hera's liking. Still, an Ezra who wanted to play close to the line with her was an Ezra that was not dwelling on Sumar's death.

"Just a hunch," she said. Hera didn't want to go into detail about how no one in the Empire who was involved in this thing would ever assume the rebels would come to Thrawn's aid in the first place, so why change anything? Besides, Grand Admiral Thrawn paid attention to details. A change in the ship's name would definitely stand out, making it an instant target.

"And we're within range of the star destroyer's scopes because…?" Sabine asked.

Hera frowned, wondering again why she'd wanted a full cockpit.

"Another hunch," Hera said. Even she didn't want to overthink that one – but a tiny voice inside kept urging her to be noticed.

Perhaps she really was being a rebel captain – wanting a great military tactician to defect to their side. Certainly, the Rebellion's chances with Thrawn on their side was better than without.

"No _Yendum_ s," Ezra said, scanning the computers. "There's a lot of shuttles though."

A beep rang out in the cabin. Hera reached over to the communications computer, and her heart sank.

"TIEs," she said. "Guess we've been spotted."

"Abort?" Ezra and Sabine said in unison.

"Engage," Hera corrected.

-SWR-

Agent Kallus wasn't nervous.

He was used to thinking on the fly. He'd just never walked into a situation like this before. Where he'd been told so little, and yet was expected to connect the dots.

Not to mention how tripped up he got every time his memories recalled the name. _Yularen.  
_

_There's work to do._

Kallus summoned his best inner ISB agent, forced the worry underneath a mask of professionalism, and marched into the shuttle with authority. He stepped around the pallet of medical supplies which were now sitting into the middle of the cargo hold, scowling as a captain came up to him angrily.

Kallus's heart skipped a beat.

_A man dressed as a captain._

 

"Who are-"

"You're an ISB operative," he said quickly to the captain. The look on the man's face confirmed Thrawn's conclusion to be accurate.

"Colonel Yularen has tasked me out to make sure you stay in line."

The captain's face fell even more. Kallus's eyebrows raised ever so slightly. Thrawn really was good.

"You can tell Colonel Yularen that all I needed was _this,_ " the captain gestured to the medical supplies.

Kallus's mind raced. And picked out a detail Thrawn had mentioned – _Commander Vanto life will depend on it_.

"Do you have experience in keeping men from dying?" Kallus asked. "Or you just focus on the killing part?"

The captain dropped his eyes.

"Then you can at least be useful carrying the supplies," Kallus said. "And show me the way."

The captain grudgingly obeyed, sifting through the medical supplies. Kallus watched what he grabbed – bacta patches, rubbing alcohol, stim-shots, a vials of medications Kallus couldn't identify, and then-

The man cursed.

"What?" Kallus tried to sound more annoyed than worried.

"I asked for saline," the captain said. "We need-"

"The shuttle needs to leave, sir."

Kallus looked past the captain to a stormtrooper standing further back.

"Fine," the captain said, grabbing a length of plastic tubing. "We'll do this the fun way."

Kallus scowled, and followed the captain. The walk didn't take long. And when he stepped into the room – it wasn't even a room. It was a closet. And lying on the floor.

It took all his resolve to not react.

Because whatever Thrawn was planning, he didn't have much time.


	14. chapter 14

"Were you _trying_ to fail your mission?" Kallus said as evenly as he could.

It was hard to contain his sudden worry. Kallus didn't really know Commander Vanto – they'd never actually spoken to each other, and Kallus only knew him as Grand Admiral Thrawn's aide. His reaction wasn't personal.

But Thrawn had ordered him to save his life… and that seemed impossible.

A lifetime of service in the ISB had dulled Kallus's emotions when it came to the results of interrogations. They were sometimes brutal – a necessary evil to gain information which would help save the lives of innocents – but Kallus knew what he was seeing now bordered on illegal.

Even by ISB standards.

This wasn't an interrogation. This was torture for the fun of it.

"Not trying, no," the captain said, a smug smile on his face. "I guess it's a good thing that saving him is _your_ job now."

Kallus grit his teeth, struggling to determine where to start.

"And here you said you had experience," the captain said again, acting very much like he was in control of the situation.

"I do," Kallus lied, grabbing a bacta patch and ripping it out of the package. "In the crates of medical supplies there should be an emergency blanket. Go get it."

"A blanket?" the captain laughed.

"It's not compassion," Kallus said. "It's how you fight hypothermia."

"Hypothermia?" the captain laughed again.

"Blood loss," Kallus explained. "Infections. Shock. Look, if I have to spell everything out for you, you're going to lose him."

The captain sighed like a teacher being one-upped by a student and left.

Kallus applied enough bacta patches on Commander Vanto's back to cover the area of the burn, hoping it would be enough. Vanto moaned a little at the touch. Kallus just hoped he could sense help was here… and not another bout of torment.

The bacta had to feel good. It should start work immediately – whatever constant pain a burn of that magnitude was causing slowly replaced with a soft, cool sensation of healing. Though what this man needed most of all was a bacta tank. The patches would have to do.

Commander Vanto had gone silent again.

Kallus glanced over at the other supplies the captain had brought, grabbing at the vial of medicine and reading it.

Antibiotics.

So the captain did know how badly things were.

Kallus shuffled through the pile before finding what else he needed – a syringe and needle. He winced slightly as he put everything together, knowing that he wasn't a doctor and having no idea if injecting someone with something was a good idea. Especially seeing that he had no idea what he was doing.

He read the vial, glad to see the phrase "intramuscular" – it meant to simply stab the needle in a big muscle and the body would do the rest.

Kallus glanced down at Commander Vanto again. He'd never seen a person in as bad shape as this and still be breathing. He reached down to check Vanto's pulse, grimacing again. Very faint, very fast.

What was that… high blood pressure? That was a bad sign… right? A sign that Vanto was crashing?

Kallus wondered if it was realistic to expect Vanto's heart to be working strong enough to even push the medicine to where it needed to go – but he couldn't figure out a way that antibiotics would be a bad thing.

At least after Kallus injected Vanto with the medicine, there was the relief of knowing that what was done was done. Unfortunately, now Kallus was consumed with a new worry – Vanto barely reacted to the sensation of a large gauge needle getting stabbed into his flesh.

Kallus glanced back out the door, the way the captain had left, wondering if he dared.

"Hold on, Commander," Kallus whispered. "Thrawn is coming to get you."

"Oh, is he now?" the captain said.

Kallus glared over his shoulder, suppressing the shock of getting caught, hissing through his teeth, "He needs a reason to go on living, you idiot."

The captain's face went from suspicious to annoyed, and Kallus turned back to his patient.

_Good save._

"Here's your blanket," the captain said, dropping in on the floor next to Kallus. He unwrapped it – it was thin, but surprisingly warm and soft. Perfect.

A snap of rubber made Kallus jump. Looking over his shoulder, Kallus saw the captain holding onto the random length of rubber tubing he'd brought with him from the cargo hold.

"You haven't used this yet," he said casually.

"And what's that for?" Kallus asked.

"Hydration," the captain said simply.

Kallus felt his face fell.

"By force," he said in disbelief.

"Oh, once you get to know me, you'll find out everything I do is by force," the captain said.

Kallus tried hard to suppress a shudder, and tried to act disinterested. "What choice do we have? You said there was no saline?"

No saline, or was this guy just looking for ways to make taking care of someone as miserable for them as possible?

"None at all," the captain said.

"You know if you mess this up, he'll die," Kallus tried one last time to dissuade him.

"You said he was dying anyways," the captain pointed out. "At least we can make an effort to save him."

"If that's what you're calling it," Kallus said.

"Open his mouth," the captain said.

Kallus did so, watching on in macabre fascination as the captain took the rubber tubing and slowly fed it into Commander Vanto's mouth, threading it down his throat… it was a forced hydration. And was honestly the only thing that they could do now. Vanto needed water, and if he was conscious enough to drink it himself.

Suddenly he squirmed, and Kallus found himself having to pin him to the ground.

"So he still has some life in him," the captain said, sounding disturbingly glad to see Vanto writhing again. Kallus just did his best to hold him still, and hoped everything would be over soon.

But the captain had no interest in ending it soon. He certainly took his time uncapping a nearby container of water and pouring it down into the tube.

Now to see if the captain had done it right – one wrong move, and Commander Vanto would be drowning…

But no… it seemed like it was a success. As much as anyone could call torture barely disguised as life-saving treatment a success. The captain drew the tubing out slowly, and Kallus once again had to hold Vanto down. Once the tube was out, he coughed weakly, but was limp within moments.

"Can hardly endure anything, can he?" the captain said, sighing in a fake disapproving way, a sickening smile on his face. "I really do hope he pulls through."

If Kallus wasn't expecting some kind of miraculous rescue, he would have murdered Commander Vanto himself right then and there.

"I believe there's nothing more we can do now except-"

"Sir!" A stormtrooper stood in the doorway.

"What is-"

"We're being hailed by the Ghost. They're asking for the prisoner."

"They're… what?"

"The prisoner-"

"I heard what you said!" the captain snapped. "How did they find us?"

"We were ordered to keep our call sign and signatures the same, as to not raise suspicions."

"Well, tell them-"

Kallus suddenly stood up.

"He's dead."

-SWR-

Hera banked right hard, the pull of the artificial gravity becoming uncomfortable as the Ghost attempted to out maneuver the chasing TIEs.

At least her two complaining crew members had left to go man the guns. But another complaining crew member had taken their place.

"Still think coming back was a good idea," Kanan said gruffly as he was thrown against the control panel, as Hera pulled the stick back and climbed, a pair of green laser bolts hissing past them.

"As good as any of our plans," Hera answered, checking the displays surrounding her. "Sabine! Be ready to fire, I should have us in position-"

But it was a no-go. The TIEs were piloted too well, and it was getting too difficult to line up the Ghost right so her gunners could get off a shot. This was looking like a bad idea, alright. But there were a lot of things she'd rather do before she admitted that to Kanan.

"What the-" Kanan said suddenly, and Hera glanced down at her control panel. She knew sometimes Kanan could detect things through the Force – and a 'what the-' in the heat of battle meant something unexpected.

Unexpected indeed.

One of the TIEs had been destroyed.

"Anyone see who our friend is?" Hera asked.

A blip from the computer and Hera saw another TIE go down.

"I think it's one of the TIEs," Ezra shouted back from the gun position below the cockpit. With the bubble canopy extending beyond Hera's own line of sight, it was conceivable that Ezra could see something she couldn't.

"Sabine?" Hera called out through the ship's communications system. "Verify?"

"They're below me," Sabine called out. She was in the gun position at the top of the Ghost. So she couldn't confirm.

Hera looked down at her computer again, feeling uneasy.

"Ezra's right," Kanan said. Hera could tell he was using the Force to try and identify who was shooting down the TIEs for them. She'd gotten used to detecting the subtle way his voice grew distant when he wasn't entirely with her. "It's the last TIE."

Another blip – Hera glanced at the screen - and there was only one TIE left.

And then another blip – the TIE was quickly approaching. Not in an attack position, but below the Ghost – as if trying to communicate it was not a threat.

"I think it's signaling us," Ezra called out. "He keeps tilting to right side."

Hera frowned, and looked at her displays. The TIE was slowly approaching one of their airlocks. It wanted to dock with them.

"Well, kiddos," Hera said, tipping the Ghost's 'wings' in confirmation. "Let's see who our new friend is."

And just as Hera hit a few buttons – telling her computer to allow the TIE to dock with them, Chopper let out a series of _wub-wubs_. Hera laughed.

"And just our luck," she said. "Chopper's found the _Yendum_. Give them a call, Chop. Tell them we want Commander Vanto back."

She had a good idea who their 'friend' in the TIE was, and if she was right, Grand Admiral Thrawn really knew what he was doing.

-SWR-

"He's _what?"_

Kallus draped the blanket over Commander Vanto, in the dramatic way someone would cover a body. The expression on the captain's face contorted even more.

"He's dead," Kallus repeated, looking somberly at the captain, hoping the news about the Ghost would keep him from checking Commander Vanto's body himself. Or contacting whoever his boss was for further guidance.

The captain seemed at a complete loss for what to do. He'd obviously been ordered to keep Commander Vanto with him, but it was just as clear that he didn't want to be stuck with a dead body.

"Tell them it's a deal!" the captain shouted suddenly in the direction of the cockpit.

"You look nervous," Kallus said, trying so hard to suppress a grin.

"Nervous?" the captain said, his voice wavering. "It'll be the rebels undoing. We'll send another message to the Grand Admiral… tell him his precious little human friend is with the Ghost… what he'll do to them when… he'll think they killed him."

Kallus was glad the captain wasn't watching him. The smirk growing on his face was impossible to suppress. The captain couldn't get a hold of his nerves right now and was rambling.

And it only got worse when the shuttle docked with the Ghost.

Kallus had invited himself along, convincing the captain to do the exchange at the docking bay, to make it fast "before the rebels realize he's dead." The captain couldn't say no to that idea.

Kallus carried the bundle of blankets which wrapped Commander Vanto's very much alive body, hoping he wouldn't suddenly cough or whine or something and ruin everything.

So far, so good.

The captain was fidgety at the docking bay, his eyes flickering between the door and the panel indicating when the two ships were locked. When the light flashed green, his hand reached over to hit the door release.

And Kallus grinned, trying as hard as he could to hold back a laugh of triumph.

The captain certainly didn't share Kallus's reaction. He froze, completely unable to move. Kallus could nearly feel the wave of dread which swept over him.

Standing before him, angry, poised, and absolutely in control of the situation, was Grand Admiral Thrawn.

"You are surprised to see me. Clearly you have miscalculated your adversary. A failure you will never have the chance to repeat again."


	15. Chapter 15

Thrawn held the gaze of the nameless captain for a long, drawn out moment before he looked over the quivering man's shoulder.

"Agent Kallus," he said, his voice measured, controlled, but still showing signs of strain.

"Everything's gone according to your plan," Agent Kallus said, fighting the urge to smile at the way the captain wheeled around.

"And Commander Vanto?" Thrawn asked, the strain more obvious, his eyes falling to the blanket-wrapped bundle in the ISB agent's arms.

"Alive," Kallus said. "Though we're going to have to move quickly to save him."

Kallus's eyes flickered for an instant to the captain, who mouthed a word of disbelief. The realization of what kind of trouble he was in was slowly dawning on him, and he looked petrified.

"Very well," Thrawn said, stepping to the side and gesturing to the Ghost. "You are expected aboard the _Ghost_ , Agent Kallus. Forgive the strangeness of this situation, but be assured I have thoroughly vouched for your character. If you wish to return to the Empire, I have left instructions on how you can manage to do so, leaving your collaboration with me undetected, with Captain Syndulla."

Agent Kallus nodded with a sharp drop of his chin and shot the captain a mischievous smile. After witnessing how the man operated when he was given free reign over another living being, Kallus had no sympathy for his fate.

Thrawn watched Kallus go, and then turned to the captain.

The cracks were starting to widen.

"I presume most of your men disembarked when you landed to pick up supplies, as ordered," Thrawn started.

The captain stared wide-mouthed for a moment. Whatever he expected Thrawn to say, it wasn't a question asking about the other agents. "…y-yes."

"Good," Thrawn said. "Then the only other people on this ship are the pilot and co-pilot."

Again, the captain could only stammer a hesitant "y-yes."

Thrawn looked up at the security cameras high above them, his eyes narrowing.

"Do you have any idea how long an Imperial distress call takes to answer?" he asked flatly.

The captain was still struggling to say something more than a simple one-word answer, and failed. "No."

"Certainly too long for it to make any difference to you."

The captain's eyes darted back the way he'd come – to the security of the ship.

"There is nothing that can save you," Thrawn said. "You have no weapons on this ship. Storm trooper uniforms are easy enough to come by, but acquiring weapons – sensitive items which need to be signed for… you do not have any on board. This wasn't an official mission.

"The only choice you have left is the manner of your death. Tell me on whose orders you are acting on, and it will be quick. Refuse, and-"

"Thrawn, we have to hurry!"

Thrawn turned to see Hera standing at the airlock, her face paled slightly. There was something unsaid that flashed between them, and Thrawn sighed, turning to lock fiery eyes with the captain.

"Captain Syndulla, please return to the cockpit, I will be-"

"We have to leave _now_ -"

"You misunderstand me. I shall join you momentarily. However, you will not wish to be present for this."

The captain's eyes darted to Hera, as though silently pleading for her compassion.

"Go," Thrawn ordered Hera. His glowing eyes were flaring with rage, locked on the captain. He didn't move again until he heard the sound of Hera's footsteps retreating.

The moment she was gone, Thrawn struck. He stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and the captain, the other cowering in anticipation. Thrawn grabbed the man's wrist with both of his hands, completely immobilizing his arm. There was still blood on the captain's hands. Eli's blood.

The sight alone broke him.

With a hiss, Thrawn snapped the captain's arm – the pop echoing sharply in the metal hall. The captain yowled with pain, but Thrawn did not release his hold. Even when the man sank towards the floor, even as he tried pathetically to pull his mutilated arm away, even as blood ran over Thrawn's hands.

Thrawn only tightened his hold, his eyes locked on the captain. But the other man didn't plead, or suddenly rush off a list of names. Thrawn's glowing eyes narrowed, and he finally released his grip.

The captain slumped forward, the hand on his broken arm flopping limply. He'd tried to brace his fall with both arms, by sheer force of habit, and the broken arm naturally collapsed under the man's weight.

Thrawn reached down, grabbed him again, this time both arms locked around the man's elbow. Another snap echoed in the corridor.

The captain's screaming morphed into an unnatural wail. Thrawn's grip tightened, feeling the bones cracking under his power, like an echo pulsating under the flesh.

And still, the captain did not speak.

"Your loyalty is admirable," Thrawn said, his voice unable to contain his anger any longer, wavering with each word he spoke. "But ultimately your silence saves no one. The Emperor himself put this mission in motion. I miscalculated his abilities to read me when I confronted him about the Death Star. I revealed too much discomfort at the explanation of its use. My service records would explain my attempts to save innocent lives would make me an opponent to this weapon … Colonel Yularen had already threatened to shoot me once for treason for showing too much compassion. But my military successes made it unwise to merely get rid of me… hence your mission - an attempt to get me to do the Empire's bidding through extortion. A mistake."

Thrawn studied the captain's face, the expression of terror replaced now by disbelief. He confirmed Thrawn's suspicions without having to say anything.

His eyes narrowed, and he let go of the man's arm again. He slumped back against the floor, barely able to get out more than a strangled whimper. Thrawn straddled him, grabbing the broken arm again.

Thrawn studied it for a moment. The sight was gruesome. Stark white bones were jutting out of the skin, at the wrist and the elbow, all the more brilliant for the red blood pumping out of the wounds.

He deliberately wiped his hands on his white tunic, bloody hand prints spread out over the cloth, glaring at the captain the whole time. But the man, who had only been a voice to Thrawn, chose this time instead to say nothing. Either nobly keeping an oath of secrecy, or too cowardly to say anything.

It didn't matter.

Thrawn reached back to the man's arm, to the bone protruding from his wrist, and pinched the bone with as tight a grasp as he could manage. He pulled back on it, bringing it back towards the elbow.

The captain screamed again, flailing pitifully at the Chiss, but Thrawn didn't react. Not until he'd managed to strip the entire bone from the man's arm. It was only a matter of time for him to die now. Blood was spilling out onto the floor too rapidly. The captain himself was barely holding onto to consciousness.

Thrawn turned back to the captain, his glowing eyes blistering in rage.

And without another word, Thrawn stabbed the bone into the man's throat. He waited, and watched, as the captain sputtered uselessly against the blow. Thrawn didn't move until he was certain the man was dead.

He stood up slowly, his chest heaving. The weariness was returning like a flood, and Thrawn knew it was only a matter of time before he'd have to submit to it. There was still too much to do. There was Eli.

Wiping his hands against on his tunic, he looked up at the security camera. There was no turning back.

Thrawn unfastened his tunic, already rendered unserviceable with the splattering of blood, and dropped it on the floor. He'd gambled that he could find a way to outsmart the Empire, to gain enough trust that he could one day manipulate the Emperor himself to send him back home with the military equipment he needed to save his world.

He'd gambled and lost.

But just as he lost one path, another one opened.

Thrawn boarded the Ghost, and left the Empire.


	16. chapter 16

(gift illustration drawn by koba!)

 

Thrawn stumbled as he closed the airlock behind him, cursed himself for being so careless, and forced himself forward.

It wasn’t as though he’d never worked himself so hard. This time was different. It wasn’t work that had kept him from eating… from sleeping. It had been a constant, nagging worry.

And now Eli might suffer even more for his negligence.

 

Eli…

Thrawn had once considered sending him away, somewhere beyond the reaches of the Empire. He had known it was dangerous to get close to anyone. If he’d been a better tactician, he wouldn’t have allowed himself any friends. No one who could be used against him, no one who would have to suffer for what he’d planned to do. It had been what he’d originally set out to do.

But Eli was different.

Thrawn remembered the first time he sat down and talked to the Wild Space human – asking him to share the myths he’d learned of the Chiss… stories of his childhood… there was just something about him. Something Thrawn couldn’t recall ever encountering in another being – human or Chiss. Good-naturedness. Kindness. And as they spent more time together, another trait – a unflinching loyalty.

It had been a dangerous gamble, but their friendship had made the years enriching… enjoyable even.

And now, with his original plan derailed, Thrawn wondered if it were even possible to accomplish the task he had set out to do. He’d hoped to merely be a good servant – an indispensable one – to the Emperor. One day gaining enough confidence that he could send the Empire back to his home world… and save it from its terrible fate.

That was before learning about the Death Star. He had thought he’d been successful in hiding his own disgust at the project. Unfortunately, his service record would be more damning – for years he’d been criticized for showing too much restraint, for pushing the Empire’s interests aside in order to save as much innocent lives as he could. And Thrawn couldn’t in good faith hope to save innocents in one part of the galaxy by damning others elsewhere.

And that decision had landed him here, aboard the _Ghost._ That decision had done far worse to Eli Vanto.

Thrawn reached the end of the corridor, not knowing how long it had taken him to stumble the short distance, and glanced around. To the left was the galley… a small communal area… empty. Thrawn narrowed his eyes, trying to focus. He’d only just noticed his vision was fuzzy… the exhaustion was catching up to him.

He turned the other way and saw a corridor lined with doors. Mumbled voices coming from it. And further back, the cockpit. And the mottled blue of hyperspace.

The sight caught him off guard.

So they were away. They were free of the Empire.

Thrawn stumbled forward again, his toes catching on the ground each time he moved his feet forward. He kept a hand on the wall to stabilize himself, following the sound of the voices. He could feel his heart racing, a constant sensation tightening in his chest, but the rest of his body felt lifeless, useless. He knew he was close to collapse, but Eli would need him. He had to find strength somewhere.

The cabin on the right… closest to the cockpit…

Hera turned around from her seat in the cockpit, and Thrawn instantly drew himself up.

“Captain Syndulla,” he said, his voice shaky. “Thank you for your patience while I dealt with that… problem.”

Hera’s eyes widened slightly at the blood that Thrawn hadn’t completely wiped clean from his hands, the splatters which he was unable to avoid getting on his white trousers. She opened her mouth to say something, glanced up at Thrawn’s glowing glare, and reconsidered.

“You better help your friend,” she finally said. “We’ve got another 20 hours before we reach the fleet. The medical frigate is getting a bacta tank ready… but Eli is going to have to hold on until then.”

“Your assistance is appreciated, Captain,” Thrawn said. “I am not sure if I can ever find a way to repay the debt.”

The voices coming from the cabin grew louder, more urgent.

“You can figure that out later,” Hera said. “They need your help in there.”

Thrawn hit the release for the door, mentally preparing himself for the worse.

And was still caught by surprise.

He stumbled forward, trying to gage the scene as emotionally removed as he could. Eli was lying on his side, his back facing him… the burn more horrific than Thrawn could have imagined. Or from what he could see. The injury was teasingly hidden by the Ghost crew, who kept moving, blocking his view.

The chatter in the room stopped immediately as all eyes fell on him.

Thrawn only had eyes for Eli.

The burn was starkly red and mottled, the injury itself swollen, the skin along the edges of the burn jagged and broken. Yet the rest of Eli’s back looked… almost gray… the skin devoid of life… Thrawn found himself trapped, staring intensely, watching the slight rise and fall of his body that indicated that he was actually breathing. Still alive. He found he couldn’t move forward…

“Which of you is in command?” Thrawn asked breathlessly, his voice more menacing than he’d intended. But it was all he could do to bury the terror that was slowly gripping him. The blame. The realization that his actions had put Eli in this situation… the quiet voice telling him recovery from an injury like this… with help so far away…

 _No._ To save Eli he had to be in control - of this situation, of himself. He lifted his eyes to the crew.

They shot glances amongst themselves, none answering. The nervousness in their eyes was obvious. Thrawn felt another ripple of anger. It was not the time for nervousness.

“We’re _all_ helping,” Ezra finally said, his brow furrowed, some sort of anger directed towards him.

“Noble, but incorrect,” Thrawn said. “In a… medical emergency,” he found his voice choked off abruptly and forced himself to continue, “a clear line of command is essential. If no one has, then I will assume command. I believe I have the most expertise.”

He took another hesitant step forward, but that swell of emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

“What actions have already been taken?” he asked, deflecting. Thrawn scanned the room again – it seemed like the entire Ghost crew was present. Yet Kallus…

“And where is Agent Kallus?” he asked.

“Long gone,” Ezra said. “Said something about being able to do more good as a spy.”

“Did he…” Thrawn trailed off again, closing his eyes briefly – long enough to remind himself that he had to stay in control… his eyes had darted down to Eli… the pain that swelled up in his chest threatened to consume him, the unexpected dizziness of exhaustion. “… did Agent Kallus …” finding the words. “…relay to you what treatment he’d already performed.”

“He had bacta patches on him when Kallus brought him in,” Zeb said, Thrawn’s eyes darting to him. “They were already nearly dry, so we took them off.”

Thrawn’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“And he said something about giving him medicine,” Zeb went on.

“What medication? How much? How long ago?”

“Uh…”

The good thing about the sudden rise of anger was it did more to bury the fear he was feeling than simply taking command.

“And what supplies do we have?” he asked.

“It’s sort of all over the place,” Ezra said.

Thrawn felt his body stiffen in anger. The medical supplies were strewn about all over the floor… like someone had opened a medpac and just dumped its contents out. Like they weren’t trained… they weren’t prepared… didn’t even know where to look for what they needed in their own medpacs.

“If you don’t have any experience with emergency medicine, then leave,” Thrawn said, taking in the whole group. “You will do more harm than good.”

Not surprisingly, the room emptied.

Leaving him alone with the Jedi.

Thrawn took a subconscious step back when he found himself suddenly alone in Kanan’s company. No… not alone. Eli was in the room… how he could have thought of him not being there…

“It’s okay,” Kanan said, his voice soft. Gentle. Understanding. Thrawn felt another stab of panic when the Jedi made a gesture to approach. Memories flashed through his mind of helplessness… of a slow death at the hands of someone who could wield the Force.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Kanan said.

Thrawn hesitated another moment, and then approached. The flurry of emotions were draining him… and now, approaching Eli again… his eyes desperately seeking that slow rise and fall of his chest… he reached down to whatever resolve he still possessed…

He reached out and put his hand on Eli’s shoulder.

The initial feeling was gut wrenching… Eli’s skin felt like wax… and when he drew his fingers away, he saw the indentations of his fingers had left indentations in his skin…

The memory of the last holocall flashed through his mind. Eli… so desperate for water he allowed himself to be burned… how long had it been since he'd had water?

Thrawn tore his eyes away, blinking hard, looking amongst the mess on the floor.

“We need saline,” he said, scanning the mess for a large bag of liquid… but out of the clutter it was hard finding one. He snatched up two bags and began looking around for the accompanying syringes… of course if they had been properly packed…

“What can you do?” Thrawn asked Kanan suddenly, forcibly burying his fear of the Jedi.

“I’ve been doing it,” Kanan answered. Thrawn noticed the Jedi’s slightly outreached hand, the way he was holding it out towards Eli. For a terrifying moment, Thrawn bolted forward, to attempt to break whatever invisible hold Kanan had on Eli. But Eli was alive...unharmed. Thrawn closed his eyes, beating back his fears. He went to ask what exactly the Jedi was doing and then thought better of it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know how close to death Eli truly was.

In silence Thrawn found the missing components of the syringes, and started to put them together. He went back to Eli, grabbing his arm and pressing a finger on the vein on the inside of his elbow. His heart skipped a beat… it wouldn’t work. He was too dehydrated…

Yet Thrawn hadn’t studied human medicine for nothing. He closed his eyes, trying to recall alternative sites to start an IV… he looked back over Eli, forcing himself to not get emotional at the state he was in. The cold of his body… the color of his skin… the horrible way his hand left indentations wherever he touched him.

Weighing his options, Thrawn chose a site on Eli’s neck. Inserting the catheter quickly, double checking that the saline solution was running, Thrawn got some tape to secure the needle in place before he hung the bag from the bunk above Eli’s and… waited.

He knew better than to hope for immediate results but desperation was making him illogical.

Thrawn tore his eyes away from Eli, looking around for those bacta patches. That ugly wound on his back… he couldn’t look at it anymore…

Yet once he’d applied them, he was again at a loss.

Desperately searching, Thrawn grabbed some wipes… he didn’t know what they were covered in, but they were wet, and clean. He opened package after package, using the wet clothes to clean Eli as best as he could.

And it was oddly soothing. To stay in contact with Eli, yet having something to do. After being separated for so long, the idea of keeping his hands on Eli obsessed him. Thrawn started his cleaning with Eli’s face – and smiled faintly. Eli was starting to look like himself again. Maybe the hydration really was working fast. Thrawn glanced up quickly to double check the IV. He’d have to change it again soon. But the hydration was helping…

Getting a new cloth, Thrawn wiped down Eli’s neck, trying to be as gentle as he could, hoping nothing he did was causing any harm… or any panic. He had no idea if Eli could sense Thrawn was there… or if he imagined he was still on board that ship… with that captain.

While he was wiping down Eli's arm, he noticed the burns on Eli's palm. If anything, it looked worse than the burn on his back, probably because it was evidently uncared for. A flicker of rage ran through Thrawn's mind - at the incompetence of the rebels - a rage that died out as quickly as it had rose. It wasn't their fault... they had been helping. Thrawn rummaged through the medical supplies until he found another bacta patch, wrapping Eli's hand. And then went back to cleaning.

Thrawn had no idea how long he sat there cleaning Eli, but the work gave him focus. He was absolutely thorough, removing weeks of sweat and dirt... old blood... though when he got to Eli’s back, he paused. He was as careful as he could be, but as he approached Eli’s wounds, the man gave a slight quiver.

Thrawn held his breath. It was the first time he’d seen Eli move… and yet the impulse was from pain… pain that he’d caused.

He leaned back, adding the last cloth to the pile. And… waited.

He didn’t know what else was wrong with Eli, beyond the obvious wound and his dehydration. He didn’t know what kind of medication Agent Kallus had given him, or how much… and giving him anything else might kill him.

He sat next to the bed, staring intensely at Eli’s face, wishing there was more he could do. Desperate for something else to do. Trying to hold back the emotions… but without anything to occupy his mind, he could feel the exhaustion coming back full force. He reached up a hand to touch Eli’s cheek, some illogical impulse to ensure he was really still there, and noticed his fingers trembling.

His chest was heaving suddenly, and he concentrated as hard as he could to get it under control. But he was exhausted, physically and mentally. He had to redirect his mind…

“You can … sense his body,” Thrawn said to Kanan, his voice unrecognizable, and then, more hesitantly. “What are you doing to him?”

“I’m controlling his heart rate,” Kanan said. He was Thrawn’s opposite – kneeling as though meditating, in control, unafraid of losing Eli… Unafraid of Thrawn, too. “When he got here, his heart was beating very fast, but faintly… not hard enough. And his breathing, it was shallow... I’m using the Force to control it.”

Thrawn closed his eyes while he thought it through, moving a hand to cover Eli's chest. He felt his heart beating. Strong beats.

“How long can you do this?” Thrawn asked.

“As long as it takes,” Kanan answered.

Thrawn’s heart twisted in his chest as he folded forward slightly, resting his forehead against Eli’s shoulder, his arm still curled around Eli's shoulder, his hand still over his heart. For a moment he just sat there, consumed in the sensation of Eli’s body moving under him. He was breathing… he was safe. And they were on their way to get him help.

“You need to eat something,” Kanan said.

Thrawn lurched suddenly. “Don’t-”

And then regretted the outburst.

“You’re afraid of me,” Kanan said. The words caused Thrawn to wince. Maybe if he wasn’t so exhausted he would have been better prepared to deal with all of this, to mask his fear with confidence… but the thought of a Jedi… in his head… reading his thoughts… knowing how weak he was… how easy it would be for him to choke … and how helpless he would be against it.

…but the same Jedi he was afraid of was keeping Eli alive. Willingly. Thrawn winced again, trying to force himself to trust him. And at the same time, he found himself holding his breath… in anticipation. For the attack that wasn’t coming.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Kanan said, calmly. “I won’t hurt you.”

 _Won’t._ Not can’t.

Thrawn reluctantly nodded. Realized that perhaps the blind Jedi couldn’t see the gesture, and said, a very quiet, “Yes.”

“You need to eat something,” Kanan went on. “And then you need to get some rest. You’ve had to push yourself for so long, but it’s okay now.”

Thrawn’s shoulders dropped.

Thrawn braced himself and realized with a certain defeated acceptance, “I can’t stand up.”

“I’ll get my Padawan,” Kanan said. But the Jedi did absolutely nothing.

A creepy sensation came over Thrawn, as he sat on the floor, realizing that the Jedi could communicate with the other… and the battle between trust and contempt erupted once more. He glanced at Eli, squeezing his shoulder. His hands were still trembling…

His vision was blurring over once again, the odd sensation of muscle failure absolutely wrecking him. Thrawn wasn’t even aware that Ezra had returned with a small plate until it was practically forced into his lap. He didn’t notice the cup of water until he nearly knocked it over reaching for the plate.

Looking at the food, Thrawn felt his stomach twist – both desperately hungry and disgusted at the same time.

_Eat._

And Thrawn ate. It was mechanically done. He couldn’t taste anything, or he was too exhausted to appreciate it. Before he knew it, the plate was empty.

_Get in bed._

Thrawn looked at the bunk bed, the empty one above him, considering it, and without any thought to Kanan, found a way to crawl over Eli and wedge himself against the wall and his human friend. He stared at his face, comforted at the thought that he’d somehow done it… Eli was alive… and safe… and they were together again.

_Sleep._

Thrawn closed his eyes.


	17. chapter 17

"How's it going in there?" Hera asked gently.

She had had a feeling that Thrawn would kick them all out of Kanan's cabin, so she wasn't surprised when the three other crew members spilled out of the room. They meant well, but from what she knew of the Grand Admiral, he'd want to do the work himself. And where he was at emotionally? Probably better to leave him alone. Especially if things took a turn for the worse.

"I don't know how we'll make it in time," Sabine said quietly.

Hera looked over her shoulder at the other two.

Out of the two, she couldn't tell who was more conflicted – Ezra or Zeb.

"Ezra?" she prompted. She wanted to be blunt about where he was on the Sumar issue, but decided not to push it until he was ready. Although the teenager had seen his fair share of combat, it was generally mutual – a willing opponent against a willing opponent. And any deaths _they_ caused were somehow too distant to be fully appreciated for what they were.

Dragging in a victim of torture had to have been a shock for all of them. Knowing they were rescuing this man as a favor for someone who had killed a family friend, Hera could appreciate Ezra's conflict.

Ezra just looked away. Hera could see the struggle on his face, so she turned to Zeb. The Lasat met her eyes.

"Kind of regret threatening to push the guy out of the airlock so many times," Zeb said.

"Yeah, let's try not to mention _that_ in front of the Grand Admiral," Hera said.

Sabine picked up on her casual use of his rank, "He better be prepared to drop his title. Did we ever figure out what's going to happen to them once we get to the rebel fleet?"

Hera grimaced. The truth was she had no idea. She had a suspicion that rebel command was thoroughly investigating Thrawn's background as the _Ghost_ raced to rendezvous with them. If Thrawn had a history of dealing with rebel cells… he was going to have to offer something very lucrative and tangible to the Rebellion, or else Hera realized their defection might end up very badly.

"Trying not to think about that right now," Hera said, sighing, tapping her fist to her forehead annoyedly. Desperately hoping that Thrawn would be too occupied with Eli to confront anyone on the crew about it. "Let's just focus on getting there."

-SWR-

Kanan was trying not to feel guilty.

He could tell Thrawn was absolutely terrified of him. It was a fear Kanan was surprised to feel coming from someone like Thrawn. But now, the former Imperial officer was asleep. Which was partly what he was guilty of.

Something about Jedi scared him. And using the Jedi power to influence his mind probably wasn't the best way to alleviate that fear. Kanan just hoped Thrawn was too exhausted to realize what had happened by the time he woke up.

But still… the fear… it was almost irrational.

It had crept up slowly. When he first entered the room, Thrawn held the same commanding presence Kanan had encountered on Lothal. The kind of control which led Sumar to his death.

Kanan winced. The two men seemed completely at odds with one another – the Thrawn who had forced Sumar to kill himself, and the Thrawn who was terrified to be alone in a room with him.

Perhaps it was legend? Kanan wasn't entirely clear on where Thrawn came from – but from what the other crew members had said, he certainly didn't look like any other being in the galaxy. Did they have Jedi where he came from? Did they use their Force sensitivity for evil? Or was Thrawn so absolutely in control of every situation that the thought of someone existing beyond that control scared him?

Kanan tried not to think about it and instead focused his energy on Eli's heart.

The hydration was certainly doing him good. A bacta tank would be ideal, of course. Kanan slowly keyed back his control over Eli's heart, to test what it could do on its own. It kept beating, and Kanan let out a sigh.

Even if he had told Thrawn he could do it as long as it took, it was still mentally exhausting.

Not like he was planning to leave his cabin… Kanan was pretty sure it wouldn't send the right message if Thrawn woke up to find Eli's life support missing. What if Eli slipped? What if something went wrong? Kanan stayed put.

And thankfully wasn't alone for long.

"Just picking up the dishes," Ezra said. Kanan smirked. It was certainly out of character for his Padawan to voluntarily clean up after himself. More likely he was making up an excuse to talk.

"You're conflicted," Kanan said.

He could sense the struggle. Perhaps he'd even been able to do so without the Force.

"It's…" Kanan could sense Ezra watching the two men. His surprise. His conflict growing more lopsided.

"I wish I knew what was real," Ezra said finally.

His statement caught Kanan off guard. Reaching out with the Force, he tried to get a sense of Ezra's uncertainty, finding his own thoughts suddenly filled with images of Sumar's brutal death and the image of Eli, recovering after being tortured at the Empire's hand, and Thrawn, risking everything to save him.

"What do you think is real?" Kanan asked. Like a good mentor, not wanting to tell his apprentice what conclusions he should reach, but guiding him there, making him see the clues himself.

"It's not what is real or isn't," Ezra said. "I just… I _want_ to hate him-"

"Hate?" Kanan asked. A suppressed fear of the dark side rising again.

"I want to believe he wasn't forced to do it," Ezra explained hurriedly.

"Why?" Kanan asked.

"… because it's easier," Ezra said after a long pause. Kanan felt the guilt washing over him, and gave his apprentice a faint smile.

"The truth isn't always easy," Kanan said. "The easy answers often lead to the dark side… forgiveness is difficult… admitting that you might be wrong is even harder."

"He killed Sumar," Ezra said. Kanan picked up on the fluttering of anger, but the emotion was fleeting. Kanan could tell Ezra had glanced back at the two. "I don't see how it's any better if he was forced to do it."

"We have killed," Kanan said, his voice serious. It was true. It was something he didn't like to think. They had thrown stormtroopers off of buildings, knocked them off of fast-moving vehicles, shot them… and while it wasn't anything like what Thrawn had done… Kanan couldn't deny what he and Ezra had done either.

"Yeah…" Ezra said. Kanan frowned. Maybe he wasn't going about this the right way – the conflict emanating from his apprentice had returned, stronger than ever. "So what do I do? Forgive him? What if he doesn't care?"

"Should the way he feels dictate your own reaction?" Kanan asked.

"No…" Ezra agreed with difficulty. "But it'd make it easier."

Ezra sighed after realizing what he said, "Which is the path to the dark side."

"You could always talk to him about it," Kanan said, not wanting to point out that Thrawn's fear of a Jedi's powers might make it difficult for him to listen to a speech about morality. Kanan opened his mouth to change Ezra's mind, but his Padawan was already walking out the door.

"Is every Padawan so difficult," he mused to no one, wishing faintly for a time when the enemies Jedi fought were either the Sith or droids.

Something told him this wasn't going to be a good confrontation.

-SWR-

Eli kept trying to move his arm, but he couldn't.

It wouldn't obey him. He was either too tired or too hurt or simply too drained to lift it. But he kept trying. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out either. Like he was trapped in his body. But he had to break out.

His heart was racing. Almost panicking.

He'd opened his eyes only a minute earlier. At first his vision was fuzzy – there were just blobs of color in front of him. Impossible to make out what they truly were. But he recognized that particular shade of blue, and instantly felt his stomach drop.

In Eli's mind, there was no other explanation – Thrawn had somehow messed up. He'd been captured, too.

Heart twisting in agony, Eli could only imagine what had happened to Thrawn. As his eyes sight improved, he could see he was unconscious, too. There was blood on his trousers but no other apparent injuries. That didn't mean anything… that captain… that captain could have done anything to him.

And the thought of their helplessness nearly made Eli weep right there.

"You're okay," a voice whispered behind him.

Eli stiffened.

He struggled to find his voice again, but the only sound he could produce was a raspy breath as he exhaled.

But slowly, his mind made the connection – the voice's familiarity wasn't dangerous. It was the Jedi… Kanan Jarrus.

"You're safe," the Jedi said calmly. "Go back to sleep. You need the rest."

Eli tried to lift his arm again.

"He needs the rest, too," Kanan said. "There'll be a time to talk later."

Eli closed his eyes as he felt his racing heart slamming inside his chest.

" _Sleep_."


	18. chapter 18

Eli fell back asleep, but the reassurance from Kanan was quickly forgotten. His mind was too fuzzy to make the connection – that hearing the Jedi's voice would mean he'd been rescued. The moment Eli's subconscious took over, his thoughts attached to the idea that had gotten his heart racing in the first place.

If Thrawn was laying there next to him, it could only mean one thing.

_Thrawn must have messed up… he'd been captured too._

It was a fear which had plagued Eli since he himself had been captured – when he realized his own imprisonment was solely being used a leverage against Thrawn. He'd rarely seen anyone one-up Thrawn before, but it didn't mean it was impossible. And if the Empire had to arrange for Eli's kidnapping to _force_ Thrawn to do something he could have easily accomplished on his own if he'd only been asked…. Eli wondered if maybe this mission was too big even for Thrawn?

So as Eli fell back asleep, his thoughts only centering on one thing.

Thrawn had been captured.

He opened his eyes again, the images still fuzzy, the familiar shade of blue inches in front of his face.

"Thrawn?" Eli asked, his voice raspy. He reached out, wincing as his hand made contact. So it wasn't a dream…

Slowly his eyesight improved, but all his returning senses brought was suffering. It really was Thrawn. And he looked horrible. Robbed of his uniform much like Eli had been, looking startling out of place with just his black undershirt and underwear. The lack of clothes revealed just how much of a struggle it must have took to capture the Chiss. His arms were badly bruised… his lip split open and bleeding.

"Thrawn," Eli tried again. Though he heard his voice, he doubted whether or not he really said it. He couldn't feel his vocal chords moving. He tried again, more desperately.

"Wake up," Eli pleaded, his hand trembling as he caressed Thrawn's cheek. The realization began to dawn on him that they were most likely trapped in an inescapable fate.

"You've finally woken up," a terrifyingly familiar voice said. "And I see you've noticed your visitor."

A ragged breath caught in Eli's throat, his hearing dampened by the pounding of his heart. The throbbing pain in his back slowly edging into his consciousness, demanding attention.

 _No…._ the thought echoed in his mind. For some strange reason, he'd believed himself rescued. Maybe he was starting to become delirious… or desperate.

"Get him to his feet," the nameless captain ordered, and Eli was dragged to his feet. His knees buckled under his weight, but the armored hands holding him kept him more or less in a standing position.

Eli couldn't even hold his head up. The captain stepped forward, tilting his chin up, forcing him to meet the other's eyes.

"You can see you've outlived your purpose," the captain taunted with a sinister grin. "Except perhaps one… your alien friend has failed. And failure of this magnitude does not go unpunished. Can you imagine what that punishment might be?"

Eli didn't respond, prompting a swift jab into his solar plexus. He gasped, not expecting it at all, and struggled to regain his breath.

"I asked you a question," the captain said. "And I want to hear an answer. What do you imagine would be a suitable punishment for your alien friend after such a colossal failure?"

Eli still didn't answer, because he was too afraid to say it. As if saying it was all that was needed to make it real. Or maybe his fears of what was bound to happen to him were too exaggerated – and saying something the captain hadn't had planned would only push him to make it more extreme.

"I see how it is," the captain said. With a motion of his hands, the two stormtroopers released Eli. He fell hard onto his knees and slumped forward, too weak to catch himself before he fell.

"We'll get you to talk," the captain said. "No doubt about that."

Eli mumbled out a faint, "no" but it was too late. The stormtroopers had already hauled Thrawn to his feet. The Chiss jerked his head up – the sudden movement had stirred him from unconsciousness.

Eli's heart gave a slight flutter – even in certain defeat, Thrawn lost none of his confidence. It would be more reassuring if Eli wasn't absolutely convinced there was no way out of their predicament.

"I'm waiting for an answer, traitor," the captain said, savagely backhanding Thrawn.

The strike only roused Thrawn's anger. The Chiss lunged forward, his teeth bared, an all but defiant hiss escaping his lips. How the stormtroopers managed to hold onto him, Eli had no idea, but it gave him hope.

If Thrawn could escape their grasp… if he could overpower the captain… if they could somehow manage to gain control over this ship…

But the threat of Thrawn's fury was too much for the captain. He must have been thinking along the same line as Eli.

"Ah well," he said, hiding his surprise as well as he could, but taking a step back all the same. "I hate to ruin the surprise, traitor, but the only useful thing you have left to do for the Empire is to die."

Eli felt a cold grip clasp around his heart.

Thrawn paused momentarily in his resistance as the captain's words registered. Too late.

The captain raised a blaster, Eli only barely noticing it pointing straight at him before everything went dark.

-SWR-

Thrawn woke suddenly.

His eyes shot open, focusing in an instant. It didn't take long to realize what had roused him from sleep. Eli was lying in front of him, the expression on his face pained. Thrawn could feel the vibrations in the bed from the human's pounding heart rate.

"Eli," he said forcefully, propping himself up quickly. He grabbed Eli's shoulder, giving a powerful shake. "Eli, wake up."

But Eli only answered with a low moan.

His face was wet with sweat, his skin looking pale again, his lips trembling slightly, as though trying to speak. Thrawn put a hand over Eli's bare chest, as though he could slow down Eli's heart with merely his touch.

It didn't help.

Whatever it was that was causing Eli's body to panic, Thrawn had to find a way to control it. He knew Eli's heart couldn't handle the strain – not when he was suffering from so much already.

"Eli," Thrawn tried again, glancing around the room. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the IV bag connected to Eli was empty.

He mumbled a curse in Cheunh as he scrambled over Eli, discerning that the room was aggravatingly empty, the lights dimmed. Where had that Jedi gone?

Thrawn found the other saline bag right where he had left it, and quickly got to work replacing it. Though he couldn't be sure if that what was causing Eli to suddenly start to panic, it at least could help.

He was back at Eli's side in moments.

"Eli," he tried again, grabbing Eli's hand and giving it a tight squeeze. With his other hand, he brushed some of his sweaty hair off his forehead. Eli's eyebrows briefly knotted together at Thrawn's touch, his face nuzzling into the pillow. Smiling weakly despite the situation, Thrawn tried again, "Please wake up."

But Eli didn't.

He returned a hand to Eli's chest, trying to get an assessment over the racing heart, hoping to determine whether or not the risk of waking him was worth it. It was possible he was dying… it was possible he was just having a bad dream… there were too many unknowns, and Thrawn didn't like it. He closed his eyes, mentally attempting to locate the medical knowledge he'd devoured on humans, but drew a blank.

It was perhaps one of the few times Thrawn could ever remember being unable to recall information when he needed it. And it terrified him. He was helpless… Eli could be dying and all of his strengths were useless.

"Eli, _please_ ," Thrawn tried again. "Come back to me. You're safe. Wake up."

He gave Eli's shoulder another few shakes.

Thrawn jumped back as Eli inexplicitly cried out, his back arching, desperate breaths catching in his throat.

"You're awake," a familiar voice said, and Thrawn glared over his shoulder. It was the Jedi returning.

Kanan's nonchalance was too much for Thrawn to handle. He wheeled around, his teeth bared.

"WHERE WERE YOU?" he hissed, his red eyes sparkling with rage. Kanan took a step back. Another flood of anger crash over Thrawn as he noticed the Jedi's hand instinctively reach for his side… for his lightsaber.


	19. chapter 19

Kanan took a step back and reached out with the Force, hoping to take stock in Thrawn’s outburst. He was surprised to find that there was very little anger behind his words, despite the tone he’d used. Instead… fear. Protective fear.

“I had to use the refresher,” Kanan said evenly, hoping his calm demeanor would do more to diffuse the situation than his excuse.

It apparently worked. Kanan could sense the Chiss’s shoulders loosen slightly, the tenseness in his muscles diminishing ever so slightly. The distrust was still there – that irrational fear – but the anger was abating. 

“We are on the night cycle of our ship,” Kanan went on, not wanting to leave anything unanswered. “I didn’t want to wake anyone for such a short watch. What’s happened?”

Thrawn had to have noticed Kanan bending the conversation, and took his invitation. He knelt next to Eli, placing a hand on his shoulder again. Kanan reached out, feeling the man’s racing heart. He lifted a hand – slowly, so as to not enrage Thrawn – and touching the human’s mind. Infusing the calmness he himself was doing everything to cultivate into Eli’s thoughts.

“You left his saline bag empty,” Thrawn said.

Kanan titled his head slightly.

“I didn’t know,” he said, hoping he didn’t have to spell out the limitations of blindness. “You went to sleep without telling me it might need changing.”

It was a mistake.

At the mention of sleep, the aura Thrawn gave off once again became distrustful. Kanan winced under his mask. 

“I would not have allowed myself rest until his needs were met,” Thrawn said, the suspicion heavily weighing his words.

“You were very tired,” Kanan said, hoping Thrawn didn’t know the extent of a Jedi’s powers. How would he have even learned of the Jedi? Surely any information the Empire still had on the Jedi had to be grossly exaggerated and negative. And the powers of a Force user to influence another’s mind was fairly well known… even years after the Jedi Order was crushed, a “Jedi mind trick” was still casually used as a joke among the inhabitants of the galaxy.

“Did you manipulate me?” Thrawn asked.

Kanan briefly weighed the pros and cons of lying, and stood a little straighter, accepting responsibility. 

“You were refusing to eat,” Kanan said. “I thought-”

“No, you did not think,” Thrawn corrected sharply. “You assumed your abilities would give you a greater understanding of the situation, but Commander Vanto could have died-”

“You couldn’t save him if you died first,” Kanan said. Where this sudden audacity came from, to cut off the former Grand Admiral, he had no idea. “I could feel the life slipping out of your grasp. Your stubbornness would have killed you.”

Thrawn didn’t respond for a long time.

And then, quite unexpectedly, Thrawn asked in a much softer voice, “What is the role of the Jedi? To serve and defend? Or to lead and guide… to destroy all threats?”

Kanan was taken aback. Not simply by the change of subject, but also by how strange Thrawn’s question seemed to be. There was something more to it – the tone Thrawn used made it clear. The way he tensed ever so slightly, as though protecting himself. There was a lot riding on how Kanan answered this question. Perhaps everything depended on answering correctly.

Replaying the words in his mind. _Serve and defend. Lead and guide. Destroy all threats._

The latter part of that certainly sounded like Imperial propaganda.

“Jedi were never meant to lead,” Kanan said. “We were guardians of peace and justice-”

“You’re deflecting,” Thrawn snapped. “Answer the question.”

“To serve and defend,” Kanan settled. 

And much to his surprise, the tension radiating from Thrawn faded in an instant. Curiosity was burning at him, but Kanan kept his mouth shut. This Chiss was far too edgy to risk probing questions.

“You don’t trust us,” Kanan tried instead. 

“You sense that, do you?” Thrawn asked.

“You wouldn’t need the Force to notice you’re afraid-”

Kanan cringed. He’d been deliberately avoiding accusing Thrawn of being scared of him and failed.

“There’s a reason the galaxy celebrated the end to your Order,” Thrawn started.

But Kanan again stopped him, saying, “Now you’re the one deflecting.”

And much to his surprise, Kanan could sense a faint smile form on the Chiss’s face. Not the kind of reaction he was expecting, but the simple gesture revealed a different side of Thrawn’s character. He didn’t mind being called out. He held himself to the same standard he held everyone else. Kanan was once again intrigued.

“Are you familiar with a project called Outbound Flight?” Thrawn asked.

“No,” Kanan said. “But… I was still just a child when the Old Republic fell. There were many things I wasn’t aware of.”

 _When the Old Republic fell._ That was a neutral way of explaining Order 66.

“We do not have Jedi where I come from,” Thrawn said. “The first time I encountered one… was with the arrival of a colonizing ship from your Republic into our space. They were not there for peace or justice, but to dominate.”

Kanan needed a moment to process everything. A colonizing ship? The Republic had sent Jedi to colonize the Unknown Regions? That flew in the face of so many things Kanan understood about the old Jedi Order.

To dominate an alien species? 

It all seemed unreal. But reaching out with the Force, Kanan couldn’t detect any lies… any embellishments. Whatever project this had been, whomever was leading it – it was just as Thrawn said. 

“I would not allow these Jedi to subjugate my people,” Thrawn continued. “When I resisted, one of the Jedi…”

Kanan could feel Thrawn tensing his throat muscles suddenly. 

“…he attempted to end my life,” Thrawn said.

_Destroy all threats._

Kanan nodded in sympathy. 

“But he wasn’t successful,” Kanan said. “How did you defeat him?”

It was an honest question – to someone completely ignorant about a Jedi’s abilities, it was difficult to imagine knowing how to fight one. The way Kanan envisioned it, this Jedi envoy must have landed on Thrawn’s world… perhaps Thrawn was a leader on his planet. He could imagine these rogue Jedi, with their lightsabers, perhaps trying to awe the primitive beings into submission with a demonstration of their Force powers. The ability to levitate something would certainly shock anyone not familiar with Jedi. But why would Jedi do this in the first place?

“A… confederate of mine made the decision to fire upon his ship.”

“He was… in another ship?” Kanan asked. “How was he threatening your life?”

“I told him we would fire upon his ship if they did not leave,” Thrawn said. “He… did not like being threatened. He called us lesser beings.”

Thrawn hissed softly under his breath. Kanan could tell – whomever Thrawn’s people were, they were proud. Whoever this Jedi was, he certainly had no knack for diplomacy.

“When I threatened him, he… was able to keep me from breathing. Despite our warning that we would fire upon his ship… He still tried to kill me. He invited death to the people under his care and leadership… we fired upon his ship. There were civilians on board, and… He only released me with his death.” 

Again, Kanan was shocked. Not simply by what happened, but also Thrawn’s perception of it. He wasn’t upset that the Jedi attacked him. He was more upset that the Jedi demonstrated selfishness, that he was a leader unconcerned for the welfare of the people under his care.

Maybe Hera really was right about Thrawn. Maybe he really was a rebel at heart.

“The Force choke… it’s a Sith power,” Kanan said. “Only someone who had turned over to the Dark Side could use that.”

“Your distinctions mean little to me,” Thrawn said. “Someone with your abilities abused those abilities, used their power to empower themselves. I defended my people-”

Thrawn stopped. There was something more there, Kanan could tell. The emotion coming off of Thrawn – regret. Powerful, painful regret.

“Our people do not believe in preemptive strikes,” Thrawn said at last, his words coming together with difficulty. “It’s believed to be dishonorable to attack a foe without being attacked first. But I read the situation. If we waited, we would have lost. But… in the aftermath…”

Kanan let Thrawn collect his thoughts.

“My actions led to death…” Thrawn struggled. “The choices I made… my own brother… died… because of the risks I took to defend my people. The Ascendency ruled that I was too dangerous… to remain. If my actions would lead to the death of my own blood, how reckless would I be with the rest of my people? …and they exiled me.”

Thrawn looked up sharply, as though startled by how much he had shared.

But no… it was more than that. Kanan reached out with the Force, reaching beyond Thrawn. He noticed the changes in Eli’s body. He was awake. And he had just given Thrawn’s hand a squeeze.


	20. chapter 20

Eli let Thrawn take care of him.

He had tried to remain stoic, keeping the true extent of his suffering as hidden as he possibly could, but even he had a breaking point. And break he did. It was like waking up from one nightmare to find yourself in another. 

The swell of pain slowly crept back into his consciousness, radiating from his back in waves, at once brutal, sharp, all encompassing… and then reseeding, leaving his body trembling from weakness… every last one of his muscles exhausted as he went from tensing to relaxing. Over and over again.

But now that he was awake, he couldn’t slip back into unconsciousness. The pain was just under the cusp of forcing unconsciousness… leaving Eli in a torment he couldn’t escape.

And that’s wasn’t even to mention the guilt… after overhearing Thrawn revealing so much of himself at such a vulnerable time… and then all the attention was back on him.

Granted, it was exactly the thing Thrawn would have wanted.

“We’re docking now,” Hera’s voice echoed into the cabin. 

For whatever reason, Eli’s body reacted with another wave of pain, this time much worse than the last. Eli hissed through his clenched jaw and tightened his grip on Thrawn’s hand. He was almost certain it was hurting the Chiss, but Thrawn never conveyed anything to suggest it was.

“You hear that?” Thrawn said, as cheerfully as Eli had ever heard him. It absolutely terrified him. “We’re docking. A few more minutes… You just have to hold out that much longer.”

“I can do that,” Eli muttered, his voice shaking through his teeth. It was a lie. And he knew it. And he was pretty sure Thrawn knew it too.

Chest heaving, Eli closed his eyes and tried his best to focus… to stay strong… to push past the pain and simply survive. They’d come so far… he had to hold out.

Before he knew it, he felt Thrawn’s hands on his neck… removing the IV needle that was there…. His arms worming their way underneath him.

“Wh-what’s h-happen-ing,” Eli mumbled haltingly.

“I’m not waiting for them to bring in a grav-stretcher,” Thrawn answered. 

Eli could feel the effort it took for Thrawn to lift him… he was practically dead weight. Dead.

Don’t think that… 

Eli’s thoughts were more like pleading with himself rather than orders.  
“I’m cold,” he whimpered. He could feel the sweat coating his body, so he didn’t know why he wasn’t burning with fever instead.

“Hold on,” Thrawn said. 

Eli winced a little as bright lights consumed his vision, his fingers weakly grasping at Thrawn’s clothes. Reality was getting more and more difficult to figure out. A swooshing sound – a door opening… that was the airlock… they were docked.

And more bright lights. Voices, muffled and distant, Put him down. It’s quite alright, I can carry him. We will go faster if you just put him down.

A weak gasp escaped his quivering lips as he felt his body rest on a new surface… cold fabric… soft…. And then movement that made him dizzy. They were going somewhere… quickly.

“Th-thrawn?” Eli mumbled.

I’m here. 

How long the journey took, all Eli knew was that it took too long before he felt hands on him again. His vision was too blurry to make out… but there were too many. Working hands. Fast. And there it was – a touch of comfort, on his shoulder.

I’ll stay with you.

A poke in the arm and then Eli Vanto knew nothing more.

\- SWR- 

The nurse withdrew the needle from Eli’s arm and motioned for the others to continue. Thrawn had never seen a patient prepped to enter a bacta tank before, and even though he was still worried for Eli’s safety, his curiosity couldn’t be ignored.

The other two nurses moved in quickly, working together seamlessly. They each held a short tube, and they each threaded it into their respective places – the larger tube went down Eli’s throat, the other into his nostril. 

“That is why the patient must be unconscious,” Thrawn thought out loud.

“They usually resist that part, yes,” one of the nurses said, fitting the mask over Eli’s face. 

“Alright, lift on three,” the head nurse said, Thrawn taking the cue and moving into a position to help. And then on the count of three, the four of them lifted him together.

“Big boy,” one of the nurses said with a laugh as they lifted.

“I always believed he was typical of humans,” Thrawn muttered.

 

The nurses shared a laugh, which Thrawn didn’t understand. But there was something about their calmness, their humor, which did more to put him at ease. It couldn’t be that serious, could it? Unless their line of work required a macabre humor simply to endure.

Thrawn drove that thought away as the group slid Eli into the bacta tank. The liquid was somewhat gelatinous, bluish in hue… and for a moment, Thrawn looked down into the tank, the distorted imagine rippling underneath him.

“Do you believe he will survive?” he asked.

“Without a doubt,” the head nurse said. “He’s a fighter. Captain Syndulla told us he’d been in that condition for a few days. If he can hold out that long, he’ll survive anything.”

“When will we know for certain?”

“Step over here and find out.”

The nurse showed Thrawn the medical read out display that was next to the tank. Thrawn was pleased – he could stand next to the tank, keeping an eye on Eli, and his condition, without moving.

And without asking permission, Thrawn remained where he was, his eyes sweeping from Eli’s unconscious form, to the medical readouts, and back again. He would have been content to remain there until Eli was ready to come out, but he became slowly aware that he was being watched. Finally, he spoke.

“I do not intend to move,” he said. 

“She did warn us that you would be a stubborn one,” the nurse said. “Can I at least get you a chair?”

“It will be unnecessary.”

“Something to eat?”

“I am content.”

“Oh, yes, and self-deprecating, too, I see. I’ll see what I can find.”

Thrawn just kept staring at Eli. It was comforting to see the read outs on the monitor… although he couldn’t understand everything, it all seemed to be very positive. He became aware of a presence behind him and he sighed.

“Can you help me understand these readings?”

“It may be a little beyond your abilities. Unless you have a medical background-”

“I do, in a way.”

“Well, ‘in a way’ isn’t the same as-”

“Humor me, then.”

The nurse sighed, and after an annoyed “very well,” went through and explained how Thrawn could read the displays. She went very fast and used as much technical terminology as she could, and while Thrawn listened, he helped himself to the plate of food she had brought.

She paused, assuming he realized the matter was beyond him, but Thrawn corrected her with a, “No, go on, I find this lesson will be mutually beneficial. I will be able to better understand the condition of my friend, and you will not be bothered by me asking for updates.”

“You couldn’t have possibly picked up on all that,” the nurse said with a faint smile on her voice.

And Thrawn replied, verbatim, everything she had just told him, only slightly adjusting the wording when it better suited the subject matter.

“I remember everything,” Thrawn finished. 

He turned to give the nurse a small smile, and then changed the subject, “I see I will have to become accustomed to not being the only non-human here.”

“We don’t have the same agenda as the Empire,” the nurse said.

“And what agenda is that?” Thrawn asked, immediately curious. The perspective of outsiders was a weakness he would never get over.

“That there’s only one correct solution to a problem.”

“We shall see.”

-SWR-

Thrawn kept true to his promise to not leave the bacta tank. He refused to leave even when he grew tired, instead sitting down next to it, leaning back against the cool glass, resting his face against the tank and sleeping for short periods. 

If anyone wanted to talk to him, they were forced to find him in the medical wing. And every time he talked to his visitors, he did so while his eyes remained fixed on either Eli or the display.

Even when Hera came to tell him that the Ghost was leaving.

“And you’ll be fine?”

“To which situation are you referring to?”

“I just told you rebel leadership is going to hold a hearing-”

“Oh, yes. That will be nonconsequential. They will sit me down and tell me how very disappointing all of my past actions have been, and then they will offer me a position in your rebellion. The hearing is merely a formality.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

“It’s not confidence, Captain Syndulla, merely familiarity. All organizations are the same. I’ve yet to see any act differently.”

“You must ruffle feathers everywhere you go.”

“I have a habit with not following protocol.”

“You are still going to have to offer them something.”

“Something more than my knowledge?” At this Thrawn turned to look over his shoulder. 

“We’ve had Imperial defectors before.”

“None nearly as high ranking. And none with access to the information I possess. But I’ll concede the point. I do hold something far more valuable. Something that will undoubtedly sway the opinions of the entire galaxy to your side.”

Thrawn could see Hera’s eyebrows raise. Surprise. They truly had no idea what was coming for them.

“You wish to ask but are uncertain whether I will share the information with you,” Thrawn said, smiling and turning to look back at the bacta tank. “It took Eli and I quite some time to unravel it. Years in fact. And without Eli’s skills, we wouldn’t have unraveled it at all. 

“It’s a super weapon, on a scale you simply cannot fathom. It will destroy entire worlds. The guilty along with the innocent.

“Once this weapon is unleashed, there will be no turning back from the cusp of civil war. Systems that have so far remained loyal to the Empire will switch sides. The fighting will be extended, and bloody, and leave your galaxy in ruin, making it all the easier for true Evil to conquer it.

“There are far more evil things in this universe than the Empire, Captain Syndulla. I tried to dissuade the Emperor from using this weapon and was called a traitor. His brutality cannot see the logic of the situation. The only way your galaxy can be prepared for the inevitable is by avoiding this war.”

“This weapon…” Hera said after a lengthy pause. “Is there a way to stop it?”

“Not that I am aware of.”

Thrawn smiled again and turned to face Hera.

“But that does not mean you will not try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this is it. 
> 
> Thank you all for giving this crazy premise a chance and sticking with my story! 
> 
> I loved sharing my ideas with you all, my stories, my passion... take care. And be excellent to each other.


End file.
